PS 3503 
.124 K5 
1907 
Copy 1 



h 



THE KING'S ENVOY 



BY HOWARD WISWALL BIBLE 



Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
in 2011 witii funding from 
Tine Library of Congress 



littp://www.arcliive.org/details/kingsenvoyOObibl 



KING'S ENVOY 

OR, WHEN THE 
LAND WAS YOUNG 



A CHIVALROUS ROMANCE IN FOUR ACTS 



HOWARD WISWALL BIBLE 



1907 
PRIVATELY PRINTED 

New York City 









I LJBKAHY of G0^8lGRESS| 

i iwo Ooylas Received * 

I AUG in '9^^ I 

cuss ^ ?.aS., No. 1 
COPY B. 



Copyright, 1907, by 
Howard Wiswall Bible 



Registered at Stationers ' Hall, 
London, England 



All Rights Reser'ved 



CHARACTERS 

The Governor. 

Captain Calvert. 

Lieutenant Brainerd. 

Thomas Mason. 

Hector Malcolm. 

Dick Fellows. 

The Minister. 

A Sergeant. 

First Soldier. 

Second Soldier. 

First Villager. 

Second Villager. 

The Mohawk. 

The Sachem. 

The War Chief. 

A Settlement Indian. 

Maggie Mason. 

Mistress Thankful. 

Indian Maid. 

Soldiers, Indians, Villagers, Etc. 



THE KING'S ENVOY, OR WHEN 
THE LAND WAS YOUNG 



ACT I 

SCENE I 

Period: Reign of Charles the Second. 

Place: Shore of a New England Colony and near by. 

Hour: Early afternoon. 

Scene: A cabin of a colonist almost within the woods 
on the edge of the settlement clearing. The cabin 
is built of rough-hewn logs, crudely fitted one to 
the other at each corner, in the way of the time. 
A small, stout door, well-hinged, swings inward and 
stands open; by it rest the heavy cross logs that bar 
it to resist attack. A few windows are high set and 
small, with shutters of the strength of the door. 
These are studded with small gun holes for defense 
of the inmates. The glimpse of the cabin's interior 
is cheery ; a fire burns, for the Spring day has some 
lingering Winter chill. A rough bench is by the 
door, and sitting upon it is Thomas Mason, a jovial 
colonist of an unknown past. In hand he has a 
blunderbuss — an old-time brass-barreled arm that 
has been with him on some morfiing hunt. He be- 
gins cleaning it, meantvhde breaking into occasional 
song. 

MASON. 
Be happy as the breezes be, 

Be lusty as the blows, 
For that's the way to take the tides — 
Just follow where life goes. 
(Blows through powder hole in flint lock of gun.) 

And if the storms they come thy way. 
Why, ride them through and through, 

Since every craft it hath a port 
And any port will do. 

(Looks dozen barrel after cleaning it.) 



6 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Some folks they think there's only one 

In petticoats or pants, 
Yet they'd soon find out their mistake, 

If given half the chance. 

{Fits flint carefully in lockj snaps it.) 

And there's a game called consequence, 

'Tis well to learn to play, 
For every man must toss the dice 

And every man must pay. 
{Begins loading gun from powderhorn. Enter 

Maggie.) 

MAGGIE. 

Thou hast ne'er paid. Here singing time away! 

MASON. 
Aye, that hath I right merrily, as vows 
Of marriage tell. 

MAGGIE. 
Time-spoiling royst'rer thou! 
Good energy was beat by sloth day thou 
Wert born. 

MASON {putting gun aside). 
And luck it was away, else for 
A wife I'd not found thee. 

MAGGIE {starts for him). 
Out this, I say. 
MASON. 

Nay, hold thy wrath within thy fist for there's 
Some news to tell. 

MAGGIE. 

Then why by powers of 
The devil, were you sitting here and song 
A-warbling, when you could a-given me 
Some of the goings on? 

MASON. 

Aye, now and if 
Thou art then eager for the news, why stay. 
Be idle questions such a feast for ears? 
It is no trick of sense that quiets thee 
When slander stirs. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 

MAGGIE. 

Out it, and add less dress 
To speech. 

MASON. 
But speech it should be dressed for sake 
Of modesty. If 'twas so garbed, there'd be 
A longer garment by reflection worn, 
And less of person shown. 

MAGGIE. 

Away with it! 
Such tittle-tattle tells me little when 
I want thy news. 

MASON. 
Good dame, there's some repose 
In what thou termest title-tattle, whilst 
There's much disquiet in the news. 

MAGGIE. 

Then more 
The urgency for telling me. 

MASON. 

Not so; 
Fair one of doubtful wit, for trouble hath 
A pace to outrun us, no matter what 
Our speed may be, but since thou hast within 
Thine ears the bee of importunity, 
Why, then, perchance 'tis well ill news should here 
And now spring trap on thee. The Gov'rnor hath 
In council sat ere sun was up, and now 
A woman's been declared a witch. 

MAGGIE. 

God's love ! 
You set me all a-tremble ; who is she ? 

MASON. 
The lass who from Virginia's settlements 
Did come ; whose sunny smiles and laughter have 
So oddly set in our solemn midst, 
I fear 'tis she. 

MAGGIE. 
Remember once when thou 
Didst say she was a very witch? 



8 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MASON. 

Nay, thou 
A common fault art guilty of, that which 
Doth fit thy thought unto another's act 
And then think act as thought. 

MAGGIE. 

I think no act 
For thee. 

MASON. 

'Tis way thou hast of thrusting 'tween 
My teeth thy words, so that my tongue takes blame 
For what thou art some fearful of. 

MAGGIE. 

Look you, 
When woman hath for husband man who thinks 
Not himself then 'tis time for her to think 
And talk for him. 

MASON. 
Aye, true, if she will fight 
The fights her thoughts and tongue provoke. 

MAGGIE. 

Thou hast 
As yet to fight for me. 

MASON. 
But not with thee. 
Nay, spare thy hand and hold thy tongue, for here 
Come those who count thy speech by some discount. 

MAGGIE {entering house). 
I will have none of them. 

MASON. 

A wise resolve 
Most wisely made, for who decides in time 
Decides then well, and yet I wager voice 
Without will bring thee straightway back again. 
For never hath I heard old slander's tooth 
A-munching on some gossip that thou hast 
Not at the table been. {Enter Dick Fellows.) 'Tis 

after all 
That fellow, — Dick! {Greets him.) Is all well, Fel- 
low Dick? 



THE KING'S ENVOY 9 

DICK. 

Good greeting. Master Thomas Mason ; how 
Is thy good Mistress? Fares she well? 
MASON. 

Aye with 
A stout clothes stick and anger she abides, 
Which is a close contagion to sore shins. 

DICK. 
A real fine day — much like 'twas yesterday. {Looks at 

sky-) 
What thinkst thou, 'twill on the morrow rain? 

MASON. 
Howbeit thy talk doth on one topic dwell — 
Of weather, bright and cloudy, snow or rain ? 
Is present subject cause, or hath converse 
Such narrow limit? Purse and thee if true 
Then hath a difference. 

DICK. 

My subject's touched. 
MASON. 
Like flies when lit upon a sore — well hit. 

DICK. 
'Tis subject I would talk upon, what make 
You of our difference? 

MASON. 

'Tis difference 
Apparency doth answer thee. Thou art 
A thrifty spender, tied unto thy coin ; 
With glist'ning eye on what doth come thy way, 
And woe-begoned gaze bent t'ward what goes. 
Thou art a server at left hand of life, 
I stand at right — despiser of thy hoard. 
That heaps the love of money o'er the love 
Of man. 

DICK. 
I'm ready now to spend the coin. 

MASON. 
I'll warrant thee thou hast concealed object. 

DICK. 
Nay, now dispel thy doubts. Let them away. 



lo THE KING'S ENVOY 

MASON. 
'Tis folly to send doubts away on all 
Four winds, for never to thyself may you 
Then say " 'twas as I said 'twould be." 
DICK. 

I will 
Right freely part with coin for teaching of 
Thy songs, the cultivation of my voice 
And bant'ring skill at repartee. 
MASON. 

Then count 
This prim'ry lesson. Learn to catechize 
Thyself with questions ; find answers, and laugh 
At sallies of thy wit, or what you take 
For it. Then slap thy sides right roundly at 
Each joke or what you think should have been one, 
And after spending time that way, desist. 
For when you pluck the goose 'tis well to wait 
Till feathers grow again. 

DICK. 

I fear thou art 
Not serious. 

MASON. 
For proof, give me thy coin. 
DICK. 
Not much of it, for songs are yet to come. 

MAGGIE (in windozv). 
Aye, right thou art, and voice for singing, too. 

MASON. 
One piece will suffice far as we have gone. 
There are some varied ways of singing — to 
The cock a lusty crow is song — the cow 
Finds music in the gentle moo — the sheep 
Hears melody in plaintive baa, so on 
And on till every noisy thing's had say. 
Well, man hath all these voices in himself 
And I must hear thy tone to learn what best 
You fit — the crow, the moo or baa: Hence give 
Thy voice freedom in this balmy air. 

(Dick shouts shrilly in squeaking voice. Mason 
claps hands to ears. Maggie retreats from 
windoiv.) 



THE KING'S ENVOY ii 

MASON {shouting). 
Now hold, aye hold, I pray thee hold ! Thou hast 
The ass's bray — 'tis rarely beautiful. 

DICK. 
A singer I'll be, since 'tis beautiful. 

MASON. 
I said 'twas " rarely beautiful," and I 
Said right, but if thy wits find other fit 
For words, so be 't. Another coin, for here 
Are some newcomers to the scene. 

{Enter Captain Calvert and Lieutenant 
Brainerd. Exit Dick.) 
MASON. 

I bid 
Ye hearty welcome comrades. What doth make 
Ye both so serious. Thy faces look 
To me as though life's smiles were dead. 
CALVERT. 

Here, now 
When frost hath left the ground with fields unplowed 
We thought to find thee, man. We come upon 
A matter of much grave import. 'Tis past 
High noon, yet from sunrise at Council held 
'Twas charged that witchcraft's practised in our midst ; 
Aye, proven so. Since talk hath gone about 
Thou knowst where suspicion rests. And hence 
The Gov'nor summons thee to testify. 

MASON. 
On me, I fear, from look that lights the eye 
Of Brainerd here, and then if not on me. 
Perchance the dame I now call wife, hath loosed 
Her tongue beyond my door. 

BRAINERD. 

It commands here 
And much beyond, if loudly spoken words 
Tell power. 

CALVERT. 
Let occasion savor more 
Of dignity, hence house thy tongue and bide 
With me to Council, where they'd question thee. 

{Enter Maggie.) 



12 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MAGGIE. 

Thy voices they have reached to me within. 

BRAINERD. 
Their reach it was not far I'll warrant thee. 

MAGGIE {pays no attention.) 
And I'd know who is talking witchcraft now. 
Methinks there's too much busy-bodying 
Here'bouts, when peaceful folk are called upon 
For witch's testimony — why 'tis like 
When I was called a scold. 

CALVERT. 

Good dame, the scold 
A man makes merry with, the witch she doth 
Make merry with his soul. 

MASON. 

Aye wench, go thou 
Within to dream with snores till I come back 
For penalty of nagging. 

{Exit Mason^ Calvert and Brainerd.) 

MAGGIE {watching them doiun path). 
There's mischief 
In air of them. See now\ they walk with some 
New inches to their height. I'll warrant there 
Are buttons on their jerkins feeling strain. 
Such pompous mien doth lend their girth ! 

{Enter Waf^anoag, a settlement Indian.) 

WAPANOAG. 

Much talk. 
MAGGIE {turning toward him). 
What's that to you, psalm-singing devil that 
Thou art! 

WAPANOAG. 
The devil he heap busy when 
The squaw she plenty talk. 

MAGGIE {grabs stick, starts for him). 

Get gone; get gone. 

WAPANOAG. 

Now Wapanoag he come for talk, no fight. 

MAGGIE {stops chase). 
Remember then the tone of chatter used. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 13 

WAPANOAG. 

Where Yellow Bird ; she here ? 

MAGGIE. 

Is she not in 
Her cabin? She's not at the Council now, 
Is she? 

WAPANOAG. 

No, not at Council : there they say 
She witch. Bad medicine ; they burn her soon, 
I tell. 

MAGGIE. 
'Tis devils' work this Council : that 
Would visit ills upon a tender maid. 
Here, Wapanoag, now go find her and if 
She be away in woods, there bid her stay 
In hiding till we come to her. Now go. 

WAPANOAG. 

I go for Yellow Bird. Go far. 

{Exit Wapanoag.) 

MAGGIE. 

Now will 
I hie m.e to that Council and by faith. 
Round-bellied complacency will find cause 
For some misgiving ere I cease to speak. 

{Exit Maggie.) 



Curtain. 



ACT I 

SCENE II 

Scene: Interior- of a large log house built of heavy 
rough-hewn timber,, designed as a place of refuge 
should occasion demand, and used for public func- 
tions of the Governor and Council of the Colony. 
Doors right and left. Windoivs centre. A long 
table at back, where the Governor and Council are 
seated. Chairs both sides of table. A court in ses- 
sion, soldiers, witnesses, spectators about. 

Time: Mid-afternoon, same day. Enter Captain 
Calvert, Lieutenant Brainerd^ and Tom 
Mason. 

CALVERT. 
My lord, thy quest of accusers 
And of accused hath fared ill, for she 
Whom most we want, is still at large. 

GOVERNOR. 
And so delay it brings us no 
Reward, and time thus spent finds no 
Requitement. 

CALVERT. 
Aye, I fear me, sir, 
That such is truth's decree, and if 
Not boldly lending voice to thought 
I'd brand absence here proof of guilt. 

MASON. 
A captain of conclusions now? 

CALVERT. 
I bid thee fit thy words to place, 
And actions to occasion, else 
Their misfit find a punishment. 
MASON. 
Some punishment's reward. 

14 



THE KING'S ENVOY 15 

CALVERT. 

Be serious. 

MASON. 
Aye, draw long faces where the sombre masks 
Of melancholy fittingly repose. 
In truth, misfortune fetches, and some here 
They carry for't, good Captain, now like thee. 

GOVERNOR. 
Thy talk in vein so light at time of deep 
Import belies decorum, courts disdain. 

MASON. 
Reply takes flavor from its query. Thus 
My answers link the questions one by one. 

GOVERNOR. 
We are assembled now to learn 
Who suffers from a witch's curse. 
MASON. 
So was thy purpose once explained : what would 
You have of me? 

GOVERNOR. 
With how much knowledge art 
Thou possessed of a maid who lately came 
Amongst us from Virginia's settlements? 

MASON. 
I know such maid. 

GOVERNOR. 
To good or ill ? 

MASON. 

To good. 
Since I've ne'er witnessed ill in her, my lord. 

GOVERNOR. 
Hast been informed of charge which hath been laid 
Against this maid — nefarious and most 
Ungodly practise, known as witchcraft? There's 
Before me here much evidence : the death 
Of cattle by no cause ; strange sickness's spread ; 
Unholy sounds by night, while near unto 
Her cabin on the forest edge there hath 
Appeared, when gray dawn routed dark, figures 
Of demons passing back and forth from woods, 



i6 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Or being swallowed by the opening earth. 
All under solemn oath hath been declared, 
Now what say you as neighbor, to these things? 

MASON. 
I knew myself no neighbor to 
Such practises as you describe, 
But I am neighbor to the maid, 
And as good neighbor do avoid 
Too close a gaze, for ne'er was eye 
Of pryer open that it failed 
To see. 

CALVERT. 
Then nothing's been observed 
By thee? 

MASON. 
I said not what had been 
Observed, nor made I mention of 
A blindness unto aught that hath 
Been told. 

GOVERNOR. 
Again to point. Thou art 
A man much given to the ways 
Of idleness, which lends somewhat 
To observation, and, as thou 
Art near to this incestuous den. 
Be free in speech for my guidance. 
And this, the Council's, worthy act. 

MASON. 
The right it weights this charge with just rebuke. 
It sorts the truth from out the weedy lies: 
To build for justice some new monument, 
My lord, the wrong by law is this or that; 
By nature little of what man decrees, 
A word misplaced, a deed misdone, and then 
Perchance, 'tis neither one, but that undone 
Or done while more of man than teaching held. 

CALVERT. 

An advocate, my lord, well versed in arts 
Of maid's defense — a high and mighty speech 
Employer, he who pleads. We knew not that 
Such lawyer's talent lived with us as this. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 17 

MASON. 

Nay, somewhat splashed with learning lawyers speak, 

A son'rous voice for light preterit employed, 

With dignity a builder of the law, 

Small-souled and oft small-creatured beings. They 

Lend mock'ry to the garb that justice wears, 

And when the pleader finds the bench, he sits 

Enmasked by stern and pompous look, to flay 

The culprit ere he's charged — condemn ere proved. 

I am none such, my lord, nor would I be. 

A simple soldier here you see. With hand 

That fits the hilt of sword, and arm to wield 

It well. With limbs inured to camp and field. 

CALVERT. 

Not often soldiers speak with fluent tongue. 

MASON. 

Nay, there are times they have a nasty one. 

GOVERNOR. 

Such clashing words must cease. Attend my speech : 
Now Thomas Mason, tell about this witch. 

MASON. 

Thy words they tell of motive sinister 

And trial none. By term of witch, and brand 

Of vile incest on dwelling of the maid 

A verdict's given ere 'tis rendered. Thus 

Condemned the maid is now. This being truth 

Why take such tardy evidence as mine? 

GOVERNOR. 

We sit to question, not to answer here. 

CALVERT. 

Licentious talk of him is well within 

The scope of dire contempt. I fear the spell 

Hath reached to where he dwells, my lord. 

MASON. 

Of meddling power that found me content. 
As doubtless now this tender maid would be 
Had thy ill news not overtaken her. 



Aye, spell 



i8 THE KING'S ENVOY 

GOVERNOR. 

No further speech, but answers, aye or nay: 

Hast thou or thine seen aught of these strange things? 

MASON. 
For me, I answer nay: for mine I leave 
Thy question as it was. 

GOVERNOR. 

We are here to 
Inquire who suffers. 

MASON. 
Thou wilt find in quest 
Of those who suffer few absent. For proof 
Here comes my worthy dame. Examine her, 
I wish thee joy indeed on such errand. 

GOVERNOR. 
A plague on her and you, for 'twixt her talk, 
Thy answers, and the answers that 
Thy answers will provoke, there will 
Be little heard save what's irrelevant 
And most undignified. 

MASON. 
Now hold, my lord, 
I pray thee to refrain, else such display 
Of courteous discourtesy, now prompt 
Adieus. 

CALVERT. 
Such mock'ry of authority 
Ne'er hath I seen before. 

MASON. 

Short vision oft 
Hath proved a gift. 

{Enter M AGGIE.) 
MAGGIE. 
My lord, where husbands go, 
Their wives should follow and so here I be. 

CALVERT. 
Didst thou receive a summons to attend ? 

MAGGIE. 
Aye, from the marriage sacrament which reads: 
" What God hath joined together let no man 
E'er put asunder." 



Sir, 



THE KING'S ENVOY 19 

CALVERT. 

Hold, use not the words 
Of God for thine own purpose ! 

MAGGIE. 

Fie upon 
Thee, Captain Calvert, know you woman's thought 
111 of who forgets vows of marriage? 

MASON {to minister). 

I crave attention of thy office for 
Our captain's morals here. 

CALVERT {angrily to Governor) . 
I like not this 
Reflection, and protection crave, such as 
My sword could serve without. 

MAGGIE. 

Ah, woe is me, 
W^hen soldiers talk of swords for use against 
A woman ! 

CALVERT. 
Words of mine, good dame, they had 
No such import. 

GOVERNOR. 
We play too freely with 
Such interruptions. If the evidence 
Be in, we will now retire. 

MAGGIE. 

My lord, 
I'd speak before you voice decision that 
Thy face betrays, 

GOVERNOR. 

Confine thy words to facts 
And knowledge; speak with point and brevity. 

MAGGIE. 

With point I warrant thee, with brevity, 
That's as may be: I am close neighbor to 
The maiden Thankful, who is falsely charged 
Holds commune with evil. Ofttimes, I have 
Been late abed, but whene'er gaze fell t'ward 



20 



THE KING'S ENVOY 



Her cabin, all was dark and still, which did 

Become her virtue well. When early dawn 

It called astir, my eyes hath wandered t'ward 

Her chimney, where in curl of slender smoke 

Her thrift was told. When day was passing, 'twas 

My habit to relieve her loneliness, 

And such occasions showed employment to 

Be honest as true maiden's is. Yet here 

For aught I see, you would condemn this maid 

So full of childlike innocence, because 

Of sickened cows and discomfort that's caused 

By overgorging appetites. Look you. 

That some hath temper to defend her from 

Such vile injustice, even if it be 

But my good man and me — a woman. 

CALVERT. 

My lord, they're both bewitched. 
GOVERNOR. 



Faith, 



You say be true. 



I fear me what 



MASON. 

Now hold I say; no ban 
Of such a disregard shall here abide. 
My lord, I left fair England's shores 
For freedom's want, as many here 
About thee did, and for the cause 
My sword hangs loose within its scabbard now. 

GOVERNOR. 

Friend Mason, peace! Thou art as known 
For courage as for idleness. 
We seek for no injustice here. 

MASON. 

Misused words too freely said 

O'er half the world's misfortune cause. 

GOVERNOR {to minister). 
I pray thee, most rev'rend sir, look well to 
The soul of this good man and w^orthy dame. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 21 

MAGGIE. 

And I, your piousness, will pass up all 
Such chance of heaven to the Gov'rnor and 
The Council here, and from the cruel hands 
That fix misfortune upon innocence, 
I now and forever do wash mine clean. 

VOICES ABOUT. 
'Tis witchcraft, sure." " Aye, they're bewitched." 
" The spell 
Doth reach to where their cabin lies." " No proof 
Of guilt is better than is this." " See now, 
How wild they look." " Beware, and touch them not." 

MINISTER {to Maggie and Mason). 
Good people, would ye come with me unto 
The meetinghouse, and there be cleansed of this 
Infection? 

MASON. 
Nay, before receiving from 
Such as thou art a part of, and it is 
No part of God that thee can be, — I will 
Away within the forest and unto 
The heathen trust for man's true justice, which 
Can never be at odds with God's. 

MAGGIE. 

I'll go 
With thee, and gladly, as good wife — she should. 

MASON. 
Aye, lass, I knew thee would. Old England, kin 
And home, I once forswore, and for free thought. 
And speech, and act I will forswear all else 
Till soil be found where such may live and thrive. 

GOVERNOR. 

The public hearing hath adjourned unto 
A private session hence, good people, now 
Disperse. 

(Governor and Council retire. People dis- 
perse, leaving Mason and Maggie alone). 

MASON. 

Aye, wench, we both spat fire. 



22 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MAGGIE. 

If 'twill 
But burn the sinning hearts of them a good 
Purpose will thus be served. 

MASON. 

Hast ere observed 
How sin will gather harvest where good doth 
But gather weeds? 

MAGGIE. 

In four and twenty months 
It seems my move, as in the game called draughts, 
Is due, if meaning went with words just said. 

MASON. 
What, wench, dost thou find flavor in thy doubts? 

MAGGIE. 

Aye, to be sure ; for ne'er was woman born 

Who could have lived with thee and not with doubt. 

MASON. 
Well, let us haste away and bide the court's 
Decision. Justice once again I fear 
Will be misnamed. 

MAGGIE. 

What will befall the lass? 
I fear that flames will lick her tender limbs. 

MASON. 
Not without scattering, I'll warrant thee. 
For there are some stout fellows hereabout 
Upon whose stomachs witchcraft meals do not 
Sit well, especially since the victim be 
Sweet Mistress Thankful. God be with her now! 

MAGGIE. 

Amen. 
{Exit Maggie and Mason.) 



Curtain. 



ACT I 

SCENE III 

Scene: In the forest by a stream, near to a fallen tree. 
Ti?ne : Late tzuiUght; same day. 

MALCOLM. 

One man may differ from his kind, but scores 
Will be as other scores wherever found. 
They taste like doubts and play and pray alike, 
With great or small in child and age the same, 
In one a single likeness of them all. 
In all a part of each and every one. 
And, since fair nature doth profess to guide. 
Why, man becomes her lover, she his bride. 

{Looks about him. Picks up wild rose.) 
Peace is a rose upon a thorny stem. 
To live while there and die when plucked away ; 
And hope may picture peace that dreams doth tell ; 
Yet he who seeks to find it, here or there 
May, ere he fall in sleep, once say: " 'Tis here." 
But in such sleep the rose that's plucked is one 
With him, no thorned branch may hold them more. 
Thus hail fair peace, thou tender wife of war. 

{He again rises and looks about.) 
Yea, all directions point as one, yet, stay; 
A path is pointed by the fading sun. 
In truth, as stranger have I lost my self. 
And man's old foe disquiet now appears. 
While like as not his mate discomfort nears. 
Yet soldier with a trusty blade and cloak 
Is well equipped to rout misgivings out. 
{Looks at sky.) And sleep beneath the stars has healthy 

roof, 
But while twilight still holds I'll search for path. 

{Exit left into woods.) 

{Enter Thankful from woods at right.) 
23 



24 THE KING'S ENVOY 

THANKFUL. 

Due north by fallen oak, where brook meets brook. 
'Twas thus described. {Sees tree and stream.) Here's 

oak and yonder stream. 
{Stands looking sloiuly about.) And so it seems I come 

before the time. 
{Looks up at sky.) The sun yet gives its light unto the 

day. 
The moon wakes early since 'tis young, 
And I will not have long to stay. {Takes seat on log.) 
How quiet are these deep and trackless woods ; 
How sweetly laden with perfumes of Spring ; 
When nature were thus in such gentle mood 
How strange that man should let his anger brew. 
{Reflectively.) A year gone by tells much to us. 
Aye, shorter space will rob of gain. 
And filch from life much of our happiness. 
The April da5^s when they were here before 
Saw me a child with what I thought was love. 
Now all hath taken wings and flown away. 

{Looking toivard pool, hands clasped over ri^ht 
knee. ) 
'Twas strange impulse to promise wed, 
Led me o'er seas to these new shores. 
{Unclasps hands.) Revolt doth rise with blushes of 

deep pain 
When thought now takes that traveled path again, 
And fear, with countless eyes and voice and ears 
Doth send its creeping shudders through and through. 

{Changes position, chin in hand, meditatively 
IV at chin g stream.) 
Then rescue by a savage such as he. 
At least a noble heart beats in his breast 
For when he carried me to kindred race 
He played the role of tender chivalry. 
Why came I here 'mongst those who think 
I know the wiles of Satan's touch. 

{Gets up, crosses to pool and looks ivithin.) 
I'm sure no witch ere had such deep blue eyes. 
Nor hair so gold, nor face so round and fair. 
{Touches bosom.) 'Tis sad, and well a merry heart 

beats here 



THE KING'S ENVOY 25 

Or else I fear me 'twould not beat at all. 

{Glances westward.) Now see the sun goes down, he'll 

soon draw near. 
{Becomes fearful.) The thought brings doubt lest long 

forbearance cease 
To charm, and good intent be thus o'ertaxed. 
{Touching sheathed knife.) And yet why doubt with 

this high judgment here, 
'Twill prove sufficient to sufficiency. 
It opens doors no mortal hand hath broached. 
{Startled by noise.) Who comes? Methought 'twas 

sorne unusual sound. 
{Again reflectively.) How stranger fears bring fires to 

the heart, 
When once unknown terror finds kindling there. 
{Alertly.) Aye, but it is a step on crunching leaves. 
And, by my faith, the stranger cavalier. 
I will dissemble, don some merry cheer. 

{Conceals self behind some bushes to right. Enter 
Malcolm.) 
Now back where start was made. Ah well. 
Such is the fate of every man. 
He wanders here and wanders there. 
But none may cut the holding cord 
Without he turns to death for aid, 
A friend who severs but ne'er ties, 
Since strands thus cut are ever lost — 
And life and death unreconciled. 

{Seats himself upon log.) 
Alas, how whims of life are knit to strife ! 
Who wounds by deeds doth make a surgeon's work ; 
But he whose words inflict the sting of pain 
Has by no surgeon to relieve the hurt. 
For steel of point and edge doth own respect 
That never finds accord with duty, love, 
And thus unkindness sharps an edged word 
To slay those who most deeply feel for us. 
Yet man is deaf to all that's new, save love, 
And love grows old before its embers gray ; 
The helpless babe unwelcomed cries to him. 
And genius hungered for but infant praise 
Is rudely scoffed and scorned, else ridiculed. 



26 THE KING'S ENVOY 

From 'neath the tree of hope he cuts the roots, 
In God, not his, he finds a merry jest; 
And thus is he from nature weaned away. 

{Enter Thankful. Malcolm rises, bows 
loiu.) 

MALCOLM. 
To thee, fair nymph, or maid, good evening. 

THANKFUL. 

Sir, 
Thy name of hour is wrong since evening's gone. 
'Tis night, and so I bid thee call time right. 

MALCOLM. 

But such were wishes good to thee from me 
And if unseasoned yet of fair intent. 

THANKFUL. 
I did receive them so, and then upon 
Presumption played, for which thy pardon's craved. 

MALCOLM. 
Pray tell what stone you use to make thy wits 
So sharp ? 

THANKFUL. 

None, sir, my parents whetted them 
With sense. What stone hath dulled thine so, a sword 
Thrust in the wars, or cudgelling in brawls? 

MALCOLM. 

Are they so poorly matched with thine? 

THANKFUL. 

Nay, but 
A man and maid should never match their wits 
Unless in matching his be best. 

MALCOLM. 

Am I 
So worsted by thy tongue? <» 

THANKFUL. 

Not by my tongue. 
For tongues are messengers of brains if wise. 

MALCOLM. 

Then by thy brain? 



THE KING'S ENVOY 27 

THANKFUL. 

My brain, forsooth: and hath 
Anatomy then been thy calling? 

MALCOLM. 

Nay, 
My destiny; for brain that's crowned in gold 
And richly set in turquoise blue is find 
As rare as beautiful. 

THANKFUL. 

But many finds 
Are not for keeping, sir. And now I fear 
Thy dictionary's overcrow^ded, since 
You give your subjects such a host of names. 

MALCOLM. 

Well then, I pray thee, tell me by what word 
You answer aye and nay? 

THANKFUL. 

By none yet voiced 
By thee, for hail of maid to me is wrong ; 
Yet hadst thou said " good dame " instead, thy wrong 
Would just as great have been. Sir Cavalier. 

MALCOLM. 

Ne'er one nor other — maid nor dame — how lax 
A rule you place upon my tongue. 

THANKFUL. 

But should 
You exercise it with such laxity 
For days 'twould be both sore and silent as 
Thy grave. 

MALCOLM. 

Thy forte seems riddle-asking now. 
" Nor maid nor wife," my faith, 'tis instrument 
Sharp edged, without a handle and with point 
Concealed. 

THANKFUL. 

A riddle's made for answer, which 
My words they neither ask nor pledge. 



28 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MALCOLM. 

,, Well, since 

You seal your lips and lock your hearing up 
Perchance 'tis well for me to crave a way 
From thy direction. 

THANKFUL. 

. On what path have steps 

Of thme been bent? 

MALCOLM. 

On tliine till now, and on 
bome other if they must away. 

THANKFUL. 

They must, 
tor now twilight is night; thou art far from 
Thy journey's end. 

MALCOLM. 

And thou? 

THANKFUL. 

Fm where I stop. 
MALCOLM. 

Alone where beasts and demons may appear? 

THANKFUL. 

When thou hast taken thy departure, sir, 
I will be safe from both, for man is king' 
Of beasts and prince of demons. 

MALCOLM. 

^ ,. , . Such command 

J^rom lips so fair hath greater powers of 
Obedience than sharp drawn swords, but Fm 
Astray and know not which direction are 
The settlements. 

THANKFUL. 
Fd forgotten thou art 
A stranger, but I fear me, sir, I may 
Not show thy way, for Fm not given to 
A safe directing once the sun falls low. 

MALCOLM. 

VVell_ then I must away. But, hark, I hear 
A voice. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 29 

THANKFUL {in terror clutches his artn). 
Thou hearest right ; they hunt the witch 
And 'tis the hunters' cry. 

MALCOLM. 

Now for thy fears 
There must be reason. Is thy riddle thus 
Answered : Art thou the witch ? 

THANKFUL (in terror). 

I beg thee fix 
Upon me no such ban. Am I not free 
As beast and bird — that words so horrible 
Should after me be called, and hunting done? 

MALCOLM. 
I ask thy pardon humbly, maid. But night 
Is here, thou art alone, confessedly 
Not maid nor wife, and with no shelter, yet 
Of wond'rous frailty ; fairer woman ne'er 
Hath graced the world's domain. See how the moon 
It lights thy golden hair and points the sweet 
Outlines of girlish form. 

(Cry of witch hunters.) 

THANKFUL {clutching him again). 
'Tis witches' cry. 
MALCOLM. 
And are you she? 

THANKFUL. 
So called, by cruel men. 
Good sir, but known to no orgies save those 
Imposed by church that cast me out. 
MALCOLM. 

Now have 
No fear of scant protection ; I'll beside 
Thee stand. 

THANKFUL. 

Away to those of thine not mine. 
I have some safety near at hand. Beside, 
The hunters now have passed me by, and soon 
In fear of witchcraft, will be telling tales 
Of brav'ry by their warm firelights. I thank 
Thee, sir, and know thee for a gentleman. 



30 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Beware thy slender rapier doth not 

Find pit against some big bow gun. They are 

So handy hereabouts, for in the hands 

Of seeming godliness the devil oft 

Doth place his keys, 

MALCOLM. 

Now, since from circumstance 
You ask a judgment shaped, I'll so declare: 
'Tis women and their children fear the dark, 
And some brave men they fear the goblins' hour. 
Hence, if not witch, why art thou here alone 
In waiting. 

THANKFUL. 
Trust thy chivalry in my 
Behalf ; I am as weak and helpless as 
E'er woman was. 

MALCOLM. 
Again thy pardon I 
Do crave. In truth my doubts are but my fears 
For thee. 

THANKFUL. 
I do thank thee, good and kind sir, 
But hearken and away ; 'tis well thou wert 
Now gone right speed'ly. 

MALCOLM. 

Fairest maid, in truth 
I fear no human shape and, if thou art 
A witch, I fear not thee, so long as thou 
Dost keep in such disguise. 

THANKFUL. 

But, sir, I crave 
That thee begone, else consequence write more 
Sad chapters to disaster's lengthy tale. 

MALCOLM. 
I'll not go till I know where safety lies 
For thee. 

THANKFUL. 

In being here alone. 

MALCOLM. 

If such 
Then be the truth, thy saying makes it so. 
Why then, I go. Farewell, sweet maid, farewell. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 31 

Thine only witchery is in realms of love. 

{Starts atuay) 
THANKFUL. 
But go not far, these woods are strangely still ; 
I am a woman, fearful of the dark. 
Mind such directions as I give: Be thou 
At hand for need, and if no need should be, 
Then part from me as gentleman thou art. 

MALCOLM. 
So be it, yet not so prove to be. 

(Stoops and kisses her hand) 
THANKFUL. 

Haste 
Away, find some concealment ; someone now comes here. 
{Exit Malcolm, Thankful stands in lis- 
tening attitude. An Indian noiselessly ap- 
proaches.) 

Friend ? 
MOHAWK. 
Fly, friend. 

THANKFUL. 
Thou didst receive my message with 
Dispatch and for thy prompt answer — my — thanks. 

MOHAWK. 
To me thy runner came ere day was bright, 
And he told of new dangers on thy path. 
Then through deep forests far toward the North, 
With urgent speed that knew not rest nor pause, 
The Mohawk camic in haste to learn thy will 
As straight as flight of wings could lead through air. 
As swift as bounding game from hunters near. 
Now, maiden, free thy voice — I pause to hear. 

THANKFUL. 
'Tis weakness bears most of life's knocks and blows, 
And, friend, I'm weak from what on me doth fall. 
Thou of a people not mine own, 
How shamelessly you charge my blood ! 
What deeds by contrast you beget! 
What doubts you flourish, slaying hope! 
My blushes come to mortify mine own. 
To linger when this tale of wrong be done. 
Once from dishonor was I saved, 



32 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Now save me since my life is sought ; 

Thy willing answers to appeal 

Should cause the blood of men to leap. 

MOHAWK. 
Fair maid, with hair of gold, give ear to me. 
From far-off lands I journeyed here with thee, 
Ten suns with but a single moon, from where 
Thy people dwell to where they dwell again, 
O'er rivers deep, through clearing and through wood. 
From regions where the sun doth longer shine, 
And birds have voice above the torrents' crash ; 
From lands where flowers bloom like many leaves. 
And running waters take a warmer touch ; 
By lodges of the crafty Cherokees, 
Then past the tepees of the women-men. 
Those shelters of the peaceful Delawares, 
From there to here came Mohawk and came maid, 
Together with the other, and alone; 
Tell me my words run straight as waters fall ; 
Tell me should truth once stray beyond my call. 

THANKFUL. 

Each word is painted as by deed it tells. 

MOHAWK. 

I first saw thee a bird before the storm. 

Whose speed was great — whose flight was overlong. 

In wild and breathless fear you passed me by, 

A fear so blinding dangers were unseen. 

And then a voice said: " Mohawk, follow on." 

And like upon the hunt thy pace was mine. 

Soon weak of limb you trembled and did fall, 

Then as the winds told me thy foes drew near 

Far back upon thy path I swiftly sped. 

To find the men from paleface chiefs pursued ; 

Who far from thee I led in weary chase 

And when the night did fall I sought for thee. 

The moon was high, the land was like the rain, 

So heavy fell the dew upon the grass; 

The trees and bushes they were long asleep 

Before I came upon thee lost in dreams. 

And when the Autumn night grew chill and cold 

I covered thee with freshly-fallen leaves ; 



THE KING'S ENVOY 33 

And then apart from thee I sat awake 

To watch the spirit of the night depart 

And leave unto the Manitou of light 

A care of thee upon the day to come. 

Gray shadows slowly crept from tree to tree, 

Until the sun began to paint the sky. 

Then you were wakened by some chirping bird 

Whose voice was rising from a branch nearby. 

A growing wonder filled thine eyes and acts 

At covering of soft and downy leaves. 

Then, when thou wert free of thy long, deep sleep. 

My shadow wandered till it fell thy way; 

And having learned thy tongue, I spoke with thee. 

Long ere the sun was high, thy fears were gone. 

And then you spoke with me — told of thyself ; 

Of how thy people sold thee to a man 

Whose heart was bad — who was thine enemy ; 

Of how he bought like hatchets and like beads. 

In me deep pity then did speak for thee. 

And of these paleface settlements I told. 

With tears you then implored direction here. 

My answer was to lead the way for thee. 

Thy mem'ry tells how we met warring bands, 

And of how you became a Mohawk squaw 

For safety, not for any love of me ; 

And further of my duty done it speaks. 

And now, white maid, be open as the day. 

Let shadows have no place in speech with me. 

Hast sent for shelter of the Iroquois? 

My lonely wigwam knows no woman's voice 

And whispers 'neath the silent folds from thee 

Would sound as songs of birds in Winter's cold. 

Is such to be, or is the journey long? 

Unto the French far north beyond the lakes. 

I pause to hear. I wait to do thy will. 

THANKFUL. 
True friend, take me in safety to the French. 

MOHAWK. 
This moon we start hence, maiden, follow close. 

( Turns sharply and sti'ikes into forest, followed by 
Thankful. 

Curtain. 



ACT II. 

SCENE I 

Scene: The woods near Tom Mason s cottage which lies 
just beyond, hidden in the trees. 

Time: Betiueen midnight and dawn. In the dark 
Hector Malcolm comes upon Tom Mason, both draw 
their sivords and enter into combat, in the deep 
shadows seeing little of each other save the outline 
of figures. The clink and rasp of steel and ejacula- 
tions nou' and again of the combatants is all that is 
heard. The fight progresses furiously, when from 
behind the clouds the moon appears. In its silver 
light each man sees his antagonist, and as they do, 
both fall back, but stand upon the defensive. 

MASON. 
Thou didst put me to stout defense. 
MALCOLM. 

My faith, 
And 'twas offense as much as 'twas defense, 
Therefore, like tribute I will pay to thee. 
Where was thy voice ? 

MASON. 

He who doth fight in truth 
Knows deeds, and lays scant store by talk. 

MALCOLM. 
Thou shouldst have by some means disclosed thyself. 

MASON. 
Not so, for \vhen thy sword hath kissed the point 
Of one before thee it is not then the time 
To make disclosure, lest 'tis vitals of 
Thine adversary. 

MALCOLM. 
Then to kindness of 
The moon we owe whole skins, and but for It 

34 



THE KING'S ENVOY 35 

One of us might be lying stark and still 

With stiff'ning joints that ne'er would limber to 

The fight again. 

( They sheath nuords and approach each other with 
hands outstretched.) 

MASON. 
It is well said and now 
Well proven since thine arm so ably wields 
A blade. 

MALCOLM. 
How quick thou wert in drawing! 
MASON. 

'Tis 
A soldier's habit — called experience: 
Thrust first and question afterward. 
MALCOLM. 

Aye, true ; 
Old wisdom's teaching, too. And soldier thus 
Met soldier, wrist met wrist, and blade a blade. 
I did not look for hand so skillful here. 

MASON. 
Nor did I count on it, which proves how skill 
And talent He in unsuspected place. 
MALCOLM. 
Who art thou ? 

MASON. 
One no better and no worse 
Than any other. 

MALCOLM. 
Voice and bearing tell 
Of gentility. 

MASON. 
Oft the voice hath tricks 
Of lying, and the bearing is but what 
Two legs may make of it. 

MALCOLM. 

Thy tongue and sword 
They thrust and parry well. 'Tis good combine. 

MASON. 

A tongue and sword are all my property. 



36 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MALCOLM. 

I'll warrant such was not, when as a babe 

Thine eyes didst first see light, but he who'll fence 

Identity hath reasons good for it. 

MASON. 
No question goes beyond its answer, and 
Unanswered it counts naught — Inquiry's worth. 

MALCOLM. 

I take that as well-earned rebuke for an 
Unsought uncovering of who thou art. 

MASON. 
A stranger here thou art, and since so new 
To this fair land 'twould be well to tell thee 
That here all's future with it no man's past. 

MALCOLM. 

Well-timed suggestion is a wholesome food. 
We will not quibble as to what we be; 
The sparks from crossed metal have bespoke 
Two gentlemen. 

MASON. 
Well said, but even in 
Disguise some name must answer call, and mine 
Is Mason — Tom, the handle for my friends. 

MALCOLM. 

And mine is Hector Malcolm. 

MASON. 

Both good names 
That warrant honest wearing should they be 
But borrowed for occasion hereabouts. 

MALCOLM. 
There's trouble in thy midst? 

MASON. 

Thy comment it 
Will fit two ways: to mean the colony. 
Or me. If colony you're right. If me. 
Assuredly thou art, for meals and me 
Have had but scant acquaintanceship of late. 

MALCOLM. 

Thy wit it keeps a pace with skillful speech. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 37 

MASON. 

Man's speech's a passport where his habits are 
Unknown, and wit is useless when not sharp 
Upon occasion for employing it. 

MALCOLM. 

Return you to the settlements? 

MASON. 

Aye, man, 
Beyond I have a cabin ; waiting there 
A worthy dam.e, who for two years hath much 
Enjoyed my name. 

MALCOLM. 
I understood thy sword 
And tongue were all thy property. 
MASON. 

Well, then, 
Thy understanding fitted to the fact : 
A wife is not a property to me. 

MALCOLM. 
A companion ? 

MASON. 
Aye, for some temper and 
Distress; a sort of balm that heals thy hurts 
Then tears the bandage so no cure may be. 

MALCOLM. 
What have we here? Some shadows tell approach. 

MASON. 
When husband, if perchance thou art not such 
By now, thy wedding primer it will teach 
That all thy solace is another's. 

{Enter Maggie, followed by Dick). 

MAGGIE. 

Here 
At last my weary limbs hath led aright. 
What now? Why hast thou been so long away? 

MASON. 
Hath it been long since we were parted ? 
MAGGIE. 

Long? 
'Twas ere sundown. 



38 THE KING'S ENVOY 

DICK. 

Aye, and I called to thee 
Before the moon was up. 

MASON 

'Twas folly, since 
The night air's harmful to the beauty of 
Thy voice. {To Maggie) I thought I would here rest 
awhile. 

MAGGIE. 
Must rest forever be arrest to stay 
Thy progress? 

MASON. 
Nay, good wench, there's less of youth 
In me than any time before. 

MAGGIE. 

You mean 
The ginger in thy blood hath lost its fire. 
By faith, I'd say 'twas never so possessed. 

MASON. 
Addicted is thy tongue to wag. Sometimes 
In sleep I dream it takes a kindly tone, 
But waking tells how sleep deceives. 
MAGGIE. 

But sleep 
Will ne'er deceive thee, lad, till thou hast failed 
To wake, and even then, perchance, thou wilt 
Have cheated Purgatory by its use. 
MASON. 
As maid was it said of thee that thy words 
Were pointed many ways and sharp upon 
All sides? 

MAGGIE. 
I was accounted to be sweet- 
Dispositioned, and ere my teens were by 
'Twas said no comelier a wench e'er graced 
A ribboned petticoat. 

MASON. 
'Twas sad mistake. 
For when thou wert among expectancies 
'Tis certain much dispute was held ere they 
Gave thee to be of womankind. But hold. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 39 

I ask thy pardon, Mistress Mason, and 
You, too, good Master Hector Malcolm, for 
My long absence of manners. Wife, here is 
A gentleman who asks to meet with thee — 
One known to me — a swordsman of fine skill 
And marked ability. 

MALCOLM (bowing I ou'). 
How much of grace 
And beauty hath old England lost unto 
Her colonies. 

MAGGIE. 

This land of ours is crude 
With much that takes no polish. 

(They talk alone together.) 

MASON (to Dick). 

On thy guard 
In tongue and act. A swordsman you will meet. 

DICK (agitated). 
As friend ? As friend ? 

MASON. 

I trust observance of 
This warning will so prove. 

DICK. 

I'd rather not. 
Indeed, I'd rather not. 

MASON. 

And bring upon 
Thyself a speedy challenge. Stand you here, 
I'm wary in approaching him. Beware 
Offense! Good Master Malcolm, here I have 
A gifted wit and singer who doth crave 
To meet with thee ; by name he's known here as 
One Richard Fellows. By close friends and those 
Who know the point of chat: " That fellow Dick." 

MALCOLM. 

I'll take him for a merry comrade since 
A song is pleasing to my ears, and wit 
Begets the laugh's conception. 



40 THE KING'S ENVOY 

DICK {attentively). 

Good, aye, good ; 
Indeed 'tis good. {To Mason) Aye, better than I 

thought 
He'd say. 

MASON {laughs heartily). 
Now did I not name right. 

MAGGIE. 

Thou art 
A very devil in thy torments. 

MALCOLM. 

Fun 
Hath many species. 

MASON. 
Dick, I would some song 
Should fall upon the evening air. 

DICK. 

My voice • 

MASON. 
Is rarely beautiful. 

MAGGIE. 
Enough of this. 
The night is nearly gone and eating's in 
Next order lest perchance no breakfast serves. 

MASON. 

Nay, but short space of time ago, my friend 
Here saw from look of me that trouble was 
Felt in my midst. 

MAGGIE. 

If trouble would then find 
Relief 'tis well you start for it. 

MASON {to Dick). 

Hast thou 
A stomach for a meal, good fellow, Dick? 

DICK. 

My hunger is away from me. 

MASON. 

That's bad; 
But better than thy meal to leave. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 41 

MALCOLM. 

If sharp 
Discourse prove title to sharp appetite 
Then ample hunger hath been provided. 

MASON. 
Come thou with me. 

MALCOLM. 
I will, and thankful, too. 
'Tv/as sunrise when I came from ship ashore. 
She made thy harbour in the night and cleared 
For southern ports when land was found for me. 
Arrival showed things much disturbed here, 
And thus I left my lodging late to find. 
So now I ask thy kind direction to 
Some comfort and some cheer. 

MASON. 

If willing, these 
Lean hours left of night abide with me 
Not longer, for in early morning we 
Away, even so, cabin will be thine 
For use and with it much welcome from two 
Late occupants. 

MALCOLM. 
Thou art a comrade! in 
All certainty, and if good wife of thine 
Doth not object, this honor I'll accept. 

MAGGIE. 
My husband's guest thou art, and since you ask 
I will right gladly say mine, too. 
MASON. 

Note how 
Accord doth fit in marriage now and then. 
A wager would I place with thee, that did 
I ask the Gov'nor of our Colony 
To stay the night with me, she would bid him 
Away and close and bar the door on him 
And me. 

MAGGIE. 
Aye, that I would, upon the both 
Of ye, but with this difference: for him 
There'd be some punishment of kind I can 



42 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Inflict, for woman's tongue's a weapon feared, 
If in the mouth of healthy-tempered lass. 

MASON. 
If voucher's wanted for the last of that 
I will that voucher be. 

MALCOLM. 

Such words I count 
Severe indictment. Since so general in 
Their scope. I'm glad I have no residence 
About. 

MASON. 
How now, where is that fellow Dick? 
I fear his shyness hath led to some close 
Concealment in a bush near by. {Calls) Ho, Dick! 
Ho, Dick! He's gone. A timid genius, to 
Be sure. 

MALCOLM. 
Before I go with thee I'd learn 
Thy position upon a matter of 
Some moment here. 

MASON. 
Thy question, man ; voice it. 
Since hearing doth no answer make. 

MALCOLM. 

Two sides 
Are sharply drawn in community here. 
Dost thou believe in witches? 

MASON. 

There is scant 
Wisdom at variance with times of which 
Our lives are part. 

MALCOLM. 

Spar not in words, good friend, 
Thou art in truth an honest fellow, straight 
Of speech, and ready in the use of arms; 
And, furthermore, thou hast a soldier been. 

MASON. 

What have fair words to do with thoughts? Dost seek 

To mould mine by a use of them? If so, 

Thou art of grave mistake. My years have known 



THE KING'S ENVOY 43 

Too many moultings, and thereby I have 
Been taught. 

MALCOLM. 
But simple declarations asked 
That you may fashion by a single aye 
Or nay? 

MASON. 
On those two words doth all depend. 
Therefore thou couldst not ask for more. 
MALCOLM. 

Well, since 
You show such reticence, I will be free 
In speech with thee. I met near to this spot 
A maid accused of witchcraft, truth 'twas charge 
Most vilely made, for she's a comely and 
An honest lass — of direct eye and speech, 
Without a single trace of malice nor 
Ungodly wickedness. She left here with 
A savage and bid me as gentleman 
Make no attempt to follow her. 

MASON. 
. Thy words 

They bring some peace and much alarm. We seek 
The maid at dawn — my dame and I — and to 
These savage villages we wend our way. 
The maid she is no witch nor hath she such 
Evil habits as those charged against her 
Court this day. 

MALCOLM. 
You start a quest of her? 
MASON. 
Aye, such is my intent. 

MALCOLM. 

I'll go with thee. 
MASON. 
I fear me 'twould be dangerous. 
MAGGIE. 

Hold ! Dost 
Remember wish when first departure of 
The maiden Thankful came to thee, and much 
Before 'twas made so necessary? 



44 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MASON. 

Aye, 
I know. I would have taken cowl and donned 
The cassock of a Jesuit priest. Then gone 
With this poor, lonely girl upon her way 
As some protection and her safety. 
MAGGIE. 

Right. 
And then I pointed out the dangers of 
Thee being recognized. 

MALCOLM. 

I catch the drift: 
You think it would be safer for the maid 
In savage comp'ny such as she's now in 
If one were by, who in religious garb 
Could serve as protector? Let me, then, don 
This cowl and cassock of which thou dost speak. 
And with you go unto these savage men, — 
Thy neighbors — and see what may there be done 
To help the maid. 

MASON. 
Thou art more comrade than 
I did suppose, and if thy calling can 
So speed'ly take thee here and there, I see 
No reason why thou shouldst not come with us 
In such disguise as best the purpose of 
Occasion fits. 

MAGGIE. 
I will get thee a cowl 
And cassock made for him (Nods toward Mason). Then 

by sun-up 
We'll leave this place. (Pause.) To me as woman, 

comes 
A question. Master Malcolm: whence springs this — 
Thy interest? 

MALCOLM. 
'Tis given woman's sight 
To see where men are blind, and thus I fear 
The thoughts within my heart are known to thee 
Ere they delivery found to her for whom 
Intended. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 45 

MASON {starting toward cabin). 
Since the night does travel on 
And hunger grows no less, 'tis well we should 
Away from here to eat. Then make our start. 

{Exit J followed by M AGGIE and Malcolm. Enter 
Calvert and Brainerd). 

CALVERT. 

My faith, but silence holds the cottage tight, 
Albeit I heard some voices near to here. 

BRAINERD. 

Aye, thoughts such time o' night they come to men. 
I deem this prowling late enough. Away 
To rest and win repose for work, I say. 

CALVERT. 

And since the morrow brings the hunt again 
About our heels, perchance now thou art right. 

BRAINERD. 

What stirred His Excellency's wrathy state? 
The tongue of Maggie Mason, was that it. 
Or tidings of newcomers in our midst? 

CALVERT. 

The Governor is much angered by act 

So careless of his dignity as this, 

The stranger lands and with no more ado 

He makes away. To where nobody knows. 

Beyond the truth our eyes do tell — he's gone. 

BRAINERD. 

A most disturbing day and night as well. 

CALVERT. 

Aye, little rest is found when actions such 
As these we cope with are about. Now then, 
Who could the stranger be? Those who saw him 
Give varying report. Some, that he's large 
Of limb and others call him youthful aged. 

BRAINERD. 
For me, I'd say he was a gentleman. 
By bearing given to command. Perchance 
A soldier from the King, or envoy from 
A sister colony, the Dutch or French. 



46 THE KING'S ENVOY 

CALVERT. 

Hast heard him speak? 

BRAINERD. 

I know him but in sight. 

CALVERT. 

Then may he be a spy upon us here 
From Frontenac, who contemplates attack 
With hordes of Indians — allies of France. 

BRAINERD. 
If of some dignity and consequence 
Lack of reception may be his complaint. 
For when he came ashore no one was there, 
Despite the show of state in ship and him. 

CALVERT. 

Aye, such may be. Accursed business, this, 

Our trial of the witch. I like it not. 

To break the bones or burn the form of one 

Three score in years or more is not so bad 

A punishment to those who execute, 

But when 'tis frail and tender maid, as fair 

And blithesome girl as e'er is seen, why, then 

Man's blood doth curdle at the thought of it. 

BRAINERD. 

Let duty guide, 'tis not for thee or me 
To pave suggestion's way. 

CALVERT. 

That's as may be. 
The sword inflicts the hurt a wrist directs. 
It parts the flesh and feels the vitals' touch. 
On it the gushing blood doth well. 'Tis now 
Not so — verdict of death for thee or me 
To execute. The battle's deed agrees 
With men, but here revolt it stirs protest. 

BRAINERD. 

Well, let's away ere dawn finds us about. 

CALVERT. 

I'd give some lib'ral bushels of good corn 

To know the mischief Mason's hatched. 'Tis some 

I'll warrant thee. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 47 

BRAINERD. 

And safe in warrant be. 

{Exit Calvert and Brainerd.) 
{Enter Malcolm in coiul and cassock, foUoived 

by Mason.) 
MALCOLM {looking tozuard settlement). 
See how abode of men in slumber lies, 
A dark and somber restfulness that breeds 
Some troubles for the day yet sleeping here. 
A small assemblage on a dangerous shore 
Made of stout men and stouter womankind, 
From these, few here a nation is to grow ; 
For men who reared this settlement are prone 
To clear these woods and plow and plant these hills. 

MASON {calling in door). 
Good wife, beware thy show of light ; 
No doubt some watchers are abroad. 

MAGGIE {from within). 
If they're about they'll find me hard 
In head and hand and arm. I have 
Some humor now for fight, my man, 
My tongue it has no harness on. 

MALCOLM. 

It takes the courage of a woman to 
Make man — she is life's heroine. 

MASON {in protest). 
I like 
The fray that voice of purpose does not still. 
But here I like the robe of caution best. 

MALCOLM {banteringly). 
There speaks the captain to his soldier men, 
But soldiers of his kind ; for should they be 
Weak women, why, he'd be without command. 

MASON. 
You jest with life as spark with powder plays. 

MALCOLM. 

Life holds three jests, three sorrows and three joys. 

MASON. 
I'd count them larger numbered, by my faith. 



48 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MALCOLM. 

Then would you give and take beyond thy right. 
For he who gives too much is kind of thief ; 
We are most free to meet and prone to praise, 
Forgetful of the robber hand that steals 
Us from ourselves by giving what is won. 

MASON 
What devious and ungen'rous ways you point. 
Name life's three jests, three sorrows and three joys. 

MALCOLM. 
First of life's playful jests man knows no birth 
Save that he's born. 

For proof of mother must he take a word. 
In father's name he hazards even more. 
The second of the three in life is mere 
Uncertainty. 

He builds, he strives, he sleeps, he dreams, he wakes, 
His name, his fortune and his goal but death. 
The third and last is merriest of all . . . 
And called mem'ry. 

'Tis widows clothed in fashion's late decree. 
And deeds enrobed with forgetfulness ; 
Thus are three royal jests portrayed to thee, 
By birth, by death and then by memory. 

MASON 
Well said, for jests ; now for their counterpart. 

MALCOLM. 

First, sorrow takes a hard and beaten course 

Of suflfering; 

Not pain to self, for that is easily borne, 

But hurts we have no power to assuage, 

Exactions of that grim usurer, Death, 

That promise naught ; 

The us'rer takes, but ne'er hath he returned, 

Purloiner of the hopes in child and age. 

And then the backward glance on ways gone by. 

Condemnations. 

The roses strewn about and trampled on. 

The deeds uncovered by a life with them ; 

There see you cruel sorrow sad enough, 

And all's contain'd 'mongst the sombre three. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 49 

MASON 
Well said, for sorrow and for jest; where come 
Thy truant joys — they're never last with me. 

MALCOLM. 

First joy is childhood with its lack of care, 

Oblivious 

To all save appetite and weariness. 

Well paid by pleasure of each living hour. 

Then comes that sweeter youthful touch called love; 

Expectancy. 

A warmth that tingles till soul fires burn, 

An ache of joy, from fondness in the hurt ; 

And last the ripened fruits of love — the arc 

Of parentage. 

The mother-bed where others spring to life ; 

The throne of nature's own eternity. 

Those are the three and only joys of life: 

Innocence, love, unending creation. 

MASON 
You pay some tribute to the ways of love 
As by the father and the mother hand 
Of man brought round to fit a world's intent. 

MALCOLM. 

A king, a realm and subjects, heritage 
Ne'er hath confined, nor battled heroes made 
Alone by val'rous deed of great acclaim. 
Vicissitudes of day and clime are they. 
For there's a crown — a sovereign's own to man 
A gift of gen'rous hand — of parenthood, 
Each tiny group for lords of love to sway, 
While hope in myriads with them all doth play. 

{Enter Maggie.) 

MAGGIE. 

How much of clatt'ring chatter hath all men ; 
Just cackle, cackle, cackle like the hen. 

MASON 
Thy tongue's a hatch'ry for all hens in one. 

MALCOLM. 

Well said, Dame Mason, mind him not. 
He plucks thy query for reply. 



50 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MASON 
Now we'll away and make distance 
On this a doubtful quest we take. 

{They start. Mason and Maggie exit.) 

MALCOLM {pauses, looks at eastern sky). 
See now the night wears but a silver thread, 
Yea, and unrobed 'tis naked for the bed. 
The day is quick'ning in the womb of dawn 
And we must be astir ere it be born. 
The vanquished stars they pale a yellow gray 
As one by one they seek some bank of cloud. 
The sun is kind to friend and enemy ; 
The moon has whims and tells not who 'tis for. 

{He follows. Exit.) 



Curtain. 



ACT II 

SCENE II 

Scene: The edge of an Indian village of the Peqiir.< 
Tepees showing in the distance. 

Time: One week later. Hour near to twilight. 

THANKFUL. 

I am most sorely grieved and much beset, 

If 'twere not for such friends as thee and thine 

I fear I would not longer burden time. 

MAGGIE. 

Sweet lass, be of good cheer; so foul and base 
A suspicion will find a fitting end. 
For 'twill recoil upon its origin. 

THANKFUL. 

My years are few, and when so multiplied 
By trouble, 'tis but nat'ral that I should 
Be of such little heart ; in truth I am 
More girl than woman. 

MAGGIE. 

Aye, and when thou hast 
A ready tear to shed, come with it then 
To me, and when it falls 'twill fall with mine 
In company, my arms enfolding thee. 
Think of me as thy sister, since I have 
Not age sufficient for the sweeter name 
Of mother. 

THANKFUL. 

Truly, loving sister thou. 
And thought so sweet brings burning tears to fill 

My eyes I scarce can see How reddened they 

By weeping be. 

51 



52 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MAGGIE. 

Dear lass, 'tis naught beyond 
The greater brightness which, unshed, thy tears 
They bring. Come thou to me to weep, and, while 
I may not join in sadness, yet I will 
In tears — since tears are such good tonic for 
A woman's spirits, whether high or low. 

THANKFUL. 

And, Maggie, thou wilt not leave me alone 
To combat with these fears and doubts that make 
Most horrid nightmares, both in lip-ht and dark? 
Indeed, I cannot bear it with but self, 
I am so helpless, and in such sad state. 

MAGGIE. 

By thee I'll stand as only woman can 
Until protection comes to thee such as 
Doth emanate from strong-armed, tender heart 
Of man. 

THANKFUL. 
And wilt thou do all this for me. 
True friend? Mind not my tears, for now I weep 
More happily than ever had I thought 
Might be. 

MAGGIE. 
But dry thy tears, dear lass, here comes 
This way a chieftain of the savages. 

{Enter Chief, folloived by Mason.) 
CHIEF. 
The white squaw of the Mohawk she will come 
To Council talk when sun with day is done. 

{Exit Chief.) 
MASON {to Thankful). 
Now, as thou art to go this night before 
The Council, Mistress Thankful, some event 
Of unusual import hath transpired 
Since noon. You bide here with my Maggie. Nay, 
For since the Reverend Father comes this way 
'Tis well, good wife, for thee to follow me. 

MAGGIE. 
Remember words I said : I love thee, lass, 
As would I sister of my parents' blood. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 53 

THANKFUL. 

To me thy words a sweet affection tell — 
As golden bands that do remake som.e part 
Of life's old fond desire. Dear sister, be 
Not long away. 

MAGGIE. 
Nay, fear not, for I will 
Return with quick dispatch to thee, dear lass. 

(They embrace. Exit Maggie. Enter MIS- 
SIONARY. ) 

THANKFUL. 
Thou art a holy man, as free of self 
As gems are free of flaws. I would have speech 
With thee, most Reverend Sir. I crave advice 
In matters of some deep import to m.e, 
And ask thy sympathy to comfort me. 

MISSIONARY. 
We never free ourselves of self, my child. 

THANKFUL. 
Hast thou always been of such priestly thought. 
Inclined to church and garbed in holy clothes? 

MISSIONARY. 

Nay, daughter, since the priest from childhood grows 
And spends some years as boy and youth, 
He's not by habit holily inclined ; 
These garments mark a m.an's estate. 
THANKFUL. 
It was a foolish question, sir ; I know- 
Not why I asked it of thee ; since I did, 
A plea for pardon follows — grant it me? 

MISSIONARY. 
A foolish question's not always 
As foolish as it seems. My child, 
Deception is a ripened fruit 
Of every season and all states. 

THANKFUL. 
Wilt thou thy sympathy then give to me? 

MISSIONARY. 
My heart is open to thee, child, 
Whatever solace and comfort 



54 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Thou art in most need of I will 
Make good attempt at some present 
Deliverance, with help of God. 

THANKFUL. 

My mind is burdened by a secret weight. 

MISSIONARY. 
And dost thou want to speak of it to me? 

THANKFUL. 

Aye, father, and 'tis of my past I'd speak. 

MISSIONARY. 
A most real direction from whence 
Our burdens come. Be only free 
As heart and candor will permit. 

THANKFUL. 

With priest I never thought a limit held, 
'Twas my belief a command of all truth 
Prevailed, no matter what its meaning be. 
Yet thou hast left my heart for arbiter 
And maiden's modest candor for its voice. 

MISSIONARY. 

My child, the office of confessor is 

For those of faith, and thou art not of it. 

THANKFUL. 
Thy creed, good father, and the creed I know 
Are two, not one, as God they worship ; so 
A ray of Christian kindness rests upon 
Thy brow, and thus in deep humility 
I pray you tell me what religion is. 

MISSIONARY. 
My child, religion is the foil for life, 
Its sins are many as the sins we bear. 
Its blessings but the weight of self-content. 
Its power is its purpose ; never made 
To travel true to time's intent, and thus 
'Tis woman's best accomplishment, and man's 
Occasionment. In truth, 'tis cloak that makes 
Some wearers good, and some the worse for wear. 

THANKFUL. 
Be my protector, friend in churchly garb. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 55 

MISSIONARY. 

As friend I will console with thee. 
Such comfort as I may bestow 
Was won before appeal. Tell this 
111 happening that befell thee. 

THANKFUL. 

It is concerning marriage, sir. 

MISSIONARY. 
I feared as much, since from the turning of 
The second seventh year in woman's life 
Her thoughts in marriage channels mostly run. 

THANKFUL. 
I know not whether I'm a maid or wife. 
'Tis doubt that carries great depression here. ( Touches 
bosom.) 

MISSIONARY. 
'Tis of surpassing strangeness hard to solve: 
With woman marriage is of such moment that 
It breeds no forgetfulness, yet you speak 
To tell the rule's exception. Now proceed. 

THANKFUL. 

It was a sort of marriage. 

MISSIONARY. 

Strange. A sort 
Of marriage, say you ? Was it solemnized ? 

THANKFUL. 

Yes, by odd rites I could not comprehend. 

MISSIONARY. 

They must have been most truly strange, if thou — 
The bride — didst in their comprehension fail. 

THANKFUL. 
How prone thou art to puncture story with 
Comment. 'Tis at some variance with what 
I'd thought thy holy office promised me. 

MISSIONARY. 
A habit of the monastery. Long 
Absence from women and the world renders 
These questions necessary. Now I may 



56 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Approach with thee this subject of comfort 
And happiness. Bvit be assured we are 
Without the church in such a performance. 

THANKFUL. 

Aye, but thy holy words can point a way 
Beyond my difficulties prompted by 
Disinterest. 

MISSIONARY. 
My child, man's interest 
Is ever an unproved instrument. 
Proceed with telling of thy tale, since tale 
It is, and stranger tale I've never heard. 

THANKFUL. 

I fled from England, that I might escape 

A guardian of over zeal, who would 

Have wedded me without mine own consent ; 

I little knew that when I shipped 'twas for 

Acceptance as a wife by some distant 

Virginia colonist, at voyage's end, — 

A vile, untamed wretch. He bid for me. 

The highest price, and I was sold to him. 

Then, being fleet of foot, I made escape. 

And by the aid a noble Indian 

Did give to me, I was unharmed. He led 

Me to my countrymen and women here, 

But on the way 'twas necessary to 

Become his squaw to save from being made 

A captive in a tribe we passed. By some 

Strange rites of savage nature, this I did. 

Yet, holy father, never have my lips 

Been sullied by a kiss. I am a maid. 

MISSIONARY. 
There is much sadness in what you tell me, 
And pity stirs my heart as man who's not 
A holy father of the church, but just 
A simple citizen. 

THANKFUL. 

But 'tis as such 
I ask this most strange ceremony's weight. 
Doth it bind me, or is 't an event 



THE KING'S ENVOY 57 

Of no great moment save as misfortune's 
Instrument — sad-resulting incident 
Demanding most unusual remedy? 

MISSIONARY. 
Fair maid, put heart at rest, expedient 
Such as thou hast employed was called to thee 
By danger — necessary for thine own 
Preservation and without harm to thee. 
'Tis not considered by the church to be 
Of binding power, and you are thus free 
To wed as I would be should sombre gown 
Fall from my shoulders, leaving man alone. 

THANKFUL. 

What strange new lightness words such as these bring 
My heart. 

MISSIONARY. 
Why for? Is there then someone who 
Hath set a siege upon its truancy ? 

THANKFUL. 

No, father, no, but in the week I saw 
A youth of noble carriage which bespoke 
A soldier and a courtier, who showed, 
On occasion, a most becoming and 
A gallant chivalry. His name, I know 
It not, since he is stranger to these parts. 
Nor am I like to see his face again. 
But, having mem'ry of a meeting once, 
I must now find a maidenly content. 

MISSIONARY. 

Was he a largish man, one given to 
Loud talk and bluster? 

THANKFUL. 

Nay, of such a one 
No second thought would come, even had there 
Been first. 

MISSIONARY. 
Perchance then 'twould be right to style 
Him as one given to the use of frills 
And powders, sweetly-scented, 
Prettily adorned with lace, bejewelled with the gems 



58 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Of India, of softened voice ; a man 
By shape, a woman by comparison. 

THANKFUL. 

No — -ten thousand noes. Thy first had more of 
A woman's preference, yet neither hit 
The mark, nor come they even near to it. 

MISSIONARY. 
Hast thou known love? 

THANKFUL. 

No, never; yet I may 
Be learning now. The woods they talk to me. 
And as child I heard that they are still 
To all save lovers' ears. Is that a truth ? 
Can you, good father, tell me aught of love? 

MISSIONARY. 

'Twill unravel thoughts to think on: 
Slender as a spider weaving 
Webs across a cottage ceiling, 
Gauzy paths for those unwary, 
Tripping nets for those who hurry 
Through the stiles of thoughtless duty. 
Some say love always dies early, 
Else turns sour growing surly. 

THANKFUL. 
'Tis pretty speech, more courtier's than priest's. 

MISSIONARY. 
I would hear more about this stranger man. 

THANKFUL. 
Good, sir, he's clever, gifted with fine speech, 
And courtly manner, having graces kings 
Take most by compliment to high estate. 

MISSIONARY. 
How much bright eyes and curly tresses make 
In airs — when comes to talk with them — the poise. 
The sighs, the laugh if beauty be in teeth. 
The smile if otherwise. Ah, but 'tis sweet 
And fair in place, if sad in consequence. (Short pause.) 
Thy tale's a tricky one that finds much of 
Romantic interest even to priest, 



THE KING'S ENVOY 59 

The callous churchman that I may not be. 
Fair maid, my holy office calls for strict 
Admonishment to thee — now tell thy heart 
To keep no company with thine eyes unless 
Perchance this stranger doth appear and prove 
To be well worthy of some thought from thee. 
And then indite within thy mem'rj^ strong 
Image of him to bar forgetfulness, 
For since thou hast thus seen in him a trait 
Of manly comeliness, 'tis certain that 
He saw in thee such charms of womanhood 
As will bring him to where thou art again. 

THANKFUL {rapturously). 
Say you so? 

MISSIONARY. 
Aye, and more. 

THANKFUL. 

Then if 'tis of 
Like tenor, with a sweet import, the same 
I pray thee to continue, for my ears 
They thirst for it. 

MISSIONARY. 
So would I might, but now 
There comes one of the savage people here: 
A woman of the forest-men, our friends. 

THANKFUL. 

See me then soon again, for talk with thee 
Alone brings peace to me. On topic of 
This stranger thy discourse I like to hear. 
Now, father, ere you go, bless me, and if 
'Tis possible, then, good sir, bless him too. 

MISSIONARY. 

Thy sweet innocence merits blessings it 
Were sacrilege for me to now bestow ; 
But as plain man, beyond the pale of church. 
You have them all, sweet maid, and he as well. 
But his they come from thee and not from me. 

THANKFUL. 

Indeed I thank thee. Father, and I thank 
Thy holy calling which made speech so free. 



6o THE KING'S ENVOY 

MISSIONARY. 

I thank it, too, fair maid ; and now adieu. 

{Exit Missionary. Enter Indian Maid. 
Thankful watches retreating Missionary.) 
THANKFUL. 
How strange a priest is he: were I to pick 
His calling 'twould ne'er be a cowl and gown. 
He'd wear but mailed shirt and plumes. His hand 
Well gauntletted, and skilled in all the arts 
Of which broad sword and rapier are parts. 
Perhaps it is a manly figure in 
Mine eyes that I too freely do endow. 
Ah, Holy Church, what sweet comfort you bring ! 

{Turning to Indian Maid who has stood watch- 
ing her.) 
Hast thou some of the paleface speech. 
And art thou here to talk with me? 

INDIAN MAID. 
Hark, Yellow Bird, thy words of talk 
My father he hath taught to me. 
And since I may so speak with thee 
Hear now my voice with open ears! 
A Mohawk brave of mighty clan 
In far-off harvest moon came here. 
He came before the leaves were gone. 
And his companion was a maid 
From distant paleface settlements 
Near where the Chippewas abide. 
He loved the maid, yet she left him 
And unto her own people went. 
Her wigwam of the fallen trees 
On forest edge he then would watch. 
In tribe where tepee of his stood 
There lived a Narragansett maid 
The Sachem's child by choice, not blood. 
She greatly loved the Mohawk brave. 
To her the clean-limbed warrior 
Was both a man and Manitou ; 
His eyes were brighter than the stars 
And when they did fall upon her 
Their dark depths almost stayed her heart. 
So wildly it would beat with love. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 61 

She watched the maid with sun-lit hair, 

And hate like weeds grew in her heart: 

A hate of vengeful, grim intent 

To steal by night upon the maid 

And thrust a knife into her breast, 

So like the snow in pale moonlight. 

Twice tried she, but each time she failed. 

First, it was some palefaces watched, 

Who with great swiftness ran t'ward her; 

The Mohawk then upon his guard, 

Did grasp her ere the door was swung 

And on the pain of instant death 

A promise forced from 'tween her lips. 

Yet hatred in her never slept. 

And where the paleface cattle grazed 

She sprinkled grass with poison herbs. 

Then cried she shrilly through the woods, 

Far in the still of silent night, 

And fearsome tokens scattered she 

Of some bad medicine about — 

All this she did, and more, much more. 

For sickness 'mongst palefaces fell ; 

Their drinking springs she touched with death, 

Then watched to see the maid fall low. 

But mornings saw her up at dawn. 

And evenings safe to rest again. 

Yet others, babes and w^eaker ones, 

Were reached till fear ran high, and then 

For thee the witches' cry was raised. 

And from the woods I heard with joy. 

White maid, you've heard the maid of red 

Her story of jealousy tell. 

Thy people comie for thee to burn : 

My father will give thee to them, 

But if thou wilt away from him. 

The Mohawk warrior I love. 

Then will I help thee to escape. 

To save thyself the pain of death 

Answer: wilt thou away or stay? 

Wilt thou take him from her who loves, 

Or leave him here for her to win? 

Once only will I speak for peace. 



62 THE KING'S ENVOY 

• THANKFUL {After some silence). 
What deep villainy is a part of thee! 
The devil thou hast put to shame by deeds 
Most dastardly. I see and know now why 
I was adjudged a witch, and proven so. 

INDIAN MAID. 

I may not kill thee now, but go 
Within the woods and I will kill 
Thee then. His arm will not protect 
In safety for always. And then. 
When thou art dead, I'll comfort him. 
I hate thee, hate thee, hate thee, hate! 

{Interrupted by approach of MoHAWK. Exit 

speedily and noiselessly into ivoods at back. 

Enter MoHAWK.) 

MOHAWK. 

I come for thee. The Council waits. 
Now follow me. 

{He turns about sharply, striking path on which 
he came.) 

THANKFUL. 

I follow thee. {She follows him.) 



Curtain. 



ACT III 

SCENE I 

Scene: An Indian Council in a village of the Pequots. 

Sachem and warriors seated about Council fire. 

High hills showing toward back; smoke signal shown 

thereon; as darkness falls signal fires take their place. 
Ti?ne: Same day from twilight until near dawn. Enter 

Mohawk and Mistress Thankful. 

MOHAWK {to Sachem). 
Sachem of the Pequots : 
Look on squaw of Mohawk. 

SACHEM [to Mohawk). 
Take thou a place in council here, 
We would both smoke and talk with thee ; 
Bid squaw there stand by tallest tree 
Beyond where signal fires now burn. 

MOHAWK {to Maid). 
Maid, by tree here stand. Be still and quiet. 
Yet if bid to speak, then speak thee freely; 
Fear naught with me here. I am a Mohawk. 

{Enter Missionary.) 

WAR CHIEF {to Sachem). 
Why comes the wearer of black gowns among us? 
Is this palefaces' talk or red men's council. 

SACHEM {to Missionary). 
My lodge is open for thy comfort. 
My squaws will now attend upon thee. 

MISSIONARY {to Sachem). 
I would be with this maiden of my people; 
If she attends thy council then so would I. 

SACHEM {to Missionary). 
She's a woman of the Mohawks, 
Iroquois, and of such people. 

63 



64 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MISSIONARY [to Sachem). 
No blood is changed that meets not other blood. 
Yon maiden, virt'ous, chaste and innocent, 
Is not a Mohawk. She's a paleface girl. 
And my rough cheeks were kissed by light the same. 
Thus, noble Pequot Sachem, here I stand. 
To leave when she accompanies me, else stay. 

WAR CHIEF {to Sachem). 
Bold defiance, that like 
The wind doth hit the face. 
What, Sachem, is thy will? 
Now let thy words be strong. 

SACHEM {to Missionary). 
Black gown, we give to thee good will, 
You freely come without hindrance. 
And thou art free to go thy way 
In tepees of our villages ; 
Both food and drink are offered thee; 
And mats are laid in all for rest; 
We greet and welcome thee a friend ; 
This Council it, as hath been said, 
Is for red men, their ears alone ; 
Go thou, in peace, and leave us so. 

{'Chorus from Council circle.) 
Go-hah.* Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. 

MISSIONARY {to Sachem). 
Hear, friends, learn how my Manitou 
Hath spoken unto me in dreams. 
For often hath it sternly said: 

Ne'er leave a woman of thy race 
Beyond the sound her voice may make, 
Or ready reaches of thine own." 
And, while not fearing safety here, 
I obey dreams sent unto me. 

SACHEM {to Missionary and Council). 
Such command we must not defy. 
Since dreams are not the will of man. 
Thus stand by Mohawk squaw, black gown. 
And words that should not reach thine ears 
* Applause. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 65 

We'll drown in sound of rumbling toms. 
Let those with toms come nearer by. 

[Tom beaters appear.) 
WAR CHIEF {to Council). 
A walk from time of sun-up till it's high 
Above thy heads and gives unto the trees 
No shadow, carries where white men have reared 
Their wigwams made of branches and tree trunks. 
There have they planted maize to garner yield. 
From covered spots thou hast seen them both come 
And go, and from afar the swinging knife 
Hath brought to thee the sound that tells the death 
Of trees — the hiss of mighty giants who fall 
Where they long stood, to lie forever low; 
Those in whose shade thy fathers oft have stood. 
This is a truth of truths and in the hearts 
Of all who hear there's none to say me nay. 
As wind at evening stills, I pause to hear. {Short pause.) 
At first it was few trees that sheltered game 
Our fathers hunted, fell before those knives 
Palefaces use. Now, many are no more. 
And from each dying tree a voice it calls 
To me, and in them all I see the life 
Of ye, my people, ebbing fast away. 
Two suns from here toward the great salt seas 
We find palefaces plentiful as leaves 
That cover paths in harvest moon, and yet 
I've heard old men in council speak when youth 
Was mine, as now I speak to thee, of time 
When no palefaces' tepee rested by 
The rivers or upon the crests of hills. 

Then came some few weak ones. We made them friends. 
So poor were these, they hungered for our grain : 
We gave it them. Then brought they more from lands 
Beyond the sun, as these will bring more here. 
My brothers, now the light is bright, we see 
Decision in the starless sky, not when 
Dark night it comes to bring us heavy sleep. 
Then let us choose from 'mongst our brave young men 
A band of warriors to fall upon 
The lodges these palefaces build near here. 



66 THE KING'S ENVOY 

It is the will of Manitou we do; 
The hand that's raised to steal, should from the arm 
Be cut. The man who takes that not his own, 
Should travel by the path of death and stand 
Before great Manitou. Hear him say " thief." 
I pause, my brothers ; you have heard me speak. 

{Loud chorus from Council circle.) 
Go-hah, go-hah, go-hah, go-hah, go-hah. 
SACHEM {to Council). 

Brothers of my race: 

I rise to speak; let ears drink of my words. 

And when we part let minds then dwell with them. 

This council fire sends light from hill to hill, 

It tells our brothers living in those lands 

Of longer sun that we are now astir; 

That hands are eager for the tomahawk, 

That anger rises not as smoke, but like 

The tree with deep'ning root and spreading branch. 

Brothers, listen more: 

Thy fathers' fathers they were young with me; 

I'm old upon the hunt and old in war. 

At many council fires I've been heard. 

And many times my voice hath called for war. 

Great battles know my moccasins' imprint. 

Great treaties have I been a party to. 

To me palefaces all are enemies ; 

My kindness once to them found no return. 

Brothers, joy is here. {Touches heart.) 

Ye look on age with reverence, so that 

Thy children and thy children's children see 

And learn their ways from thee. I now rejoice 

At silence which attends my talk with thee. 

Each word it springs as from thy fathers' time. 

It gives their voice, long still, an echo here, 

And they are glad I live thus on to speak 

And picture now their will, and show their hearts. 

Brothers, take ye heed. 

The tree it lifts its head unto the sky. 

Its growing branches reach out many ways; 

The new near top, the old near root, in shade 

And shelter of the younger limbs above, 



THE KING'S ENVOY 67 

Which shield the old and rise to protect them; 

Even the fallen limb tells where it lived. 

We read this as a tribute to man's age. 

And thus we think as nature thinks for him. 

Brothers, novv' attend. 

The just are greater than the kind. The man 

First just, then kind, will pay before he gives. 

But ask not how ye may be just. No way 

Is pointed save what comes to you alone. 

'Tis like the air you breath, one minute here, 

And then forever gone beyond recall. 

All this I say so words that follow now 

May take the seed from which true justice grows. 

Brothers, hear with care. 

The Chieftain's voice hath kindl'd fires here; 

His words ring deep in mine own aged ears. 

But an echo it calls as well and says: 

When man begins, he seldom sees an end. 

To listen thus is hark'ning to wise talk 

Which further tells the dangers of much haste, 

And shows how wars like fires start with sparks. 

One light'ing blaze for glory, one for warmth. 

Brothers, follow close. 

From paleface settlements strong words now come. 

They claim a maiden of their people here. 

One of bad medicine. They ask for her. 

The Mohawk says this maid she is his squaw, 

That she hath been his now these many moons, 

And yet the Mohawk's tepee is not here; 

He doth not hunt for her, nor doth she make 

For him new leggins and new moccasins. 

Brothers, here reflect. 

Now shall we war to save this maid, or break 

No bond of peace to keep from punishment? 

The paleface chief's demand we may deny. 

But blood will flow and battle rage around. 

The tree of peace spreads branches overhead, 

The clouds of war they give but little shade, 

And shade is good for age and good for youth. 

I speak for peace. Let me thy voices hear. 

(Loud and prolonged chorus in Council). 
Hai,* Hai, Hai, Hai, Hai. 

* Peace. 



68 THE KING'S ENVOY 

SACHEM {to Mohawk). 
See, friend, we must thus answer these demands, 
And give to them this paleface maid— thy squaw. 

MOHAWK {to Sachem). 
As Mohawk to whom wampum hath been sent, 
As thou art now at peace with the Iroquois, 
I charge thee to protect this maid — my squaw, 
By marriage Mohawk and of Iroquois. 

{Subdued cries). 
Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. 

SACHEM {to Mohawk). 
Be free of speech to Council here. 
No words now spare that lead us right. 
For, brother, hearts are all with thee, 
And if thou canst make head and heart 
Of one intent, we will then raise 
The tomahawk and go to war. 

{Loud chorus of Council). 
Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. 

MOHAWK. 
Pequots: the Mohawks, they are men of blood. 
They are the bears who never die, but live. 
For Athenentsic,* queen of heaven, guards. 
She gave to their first father birth. From her 
They came into this land to live supreme. 
They pay no tribute to demand. Command 
They take unto themselves as theirs alone. 
They are the keepers of the sunrise door 
Of the Long House, t and older brothers to 
The mighty Senecas, Onondagas, 
Oneidas, Cayugas — the Iroquois 

Much feared by French and by these Englishmen 

{Pauses briefly.) 
The bear is greatest Mohawk clan — it's here. 

{Shozus totem.) 
My brother he now wears the white heron. 
He's great At-o-ta-ho,:]: the chief of you, 
Of me, and paleface men we meet near here. 
In me the voices of some spirits say: 

* A legendary origin. 

t Symbol of Five Nations Confederation. 

t Name given first supreme chief; title of office. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 69 

" He-do-no-sonne * warriors will come." 
I am one warrior far from my tribe. 
Once w^hen the bird of life was on the wing 
And sounds w^ere heard above the highest trees 
Of whipping winds against each branch and leaf 
The Spirit of the Night came unto me 
And told a tale of wonders yet to be : 
A tale whose calling reached to me in dreams 
And led upon new paths far from my tribe. 
The moons they have made winters since I left, 
And while I speak not for the Iroquois, 
Yet many belts will voice my talk to thee. 
This belt of wampum now confirms my words. 

{Hands belt to Sachem.) 
Ere day was gone, and deep twilight approached, 
We left the villages and danced the dance 
Of Manitou. Pequots and Mohawk braves. 
That made us brothers, then by closer ties 
This calumet has since made tighter bonds. 
No one can give denial to my words. {Prolonged pause.) 
Brothers: what is greater than man's bravery. 
Courage it is bravest when for woman, 
Eagles strike for mates with spreading talons; 
Beasts fail not when she who bears their young is 
Sought by hunters mid dens safely hidden. 
Mohawks, like the bird and beast, save women. 
Would I then become a dog affrighted 
When a snarling wolf is heard a-yelping? 
No — in voice of ringing countless echoes ! 
No — in heaven's tones of wildest thunder! 
No — I am alive — a bear, a Mohawk! 
No — for, friends, yon paleface maid is worthy ! 

{Short pause.) 
I honor death by proudly facing it. 
I am one Mohawk here with Pequots, friends. 
I look on you. I read your faces now. 
I see before me men — all warriors. 
I hear their voices rumbling in their depths, 
Like captured eagles anxious to be free. 
I see their lips all tightly closed to sound 
That would escape. Their throats they swell to break 
* League of Iroquois. 



70 THE KING'S ENVOY 

This silence which my talk has given me. 

I know their words — now wait no longer — speak! 

(Council spring to feet, zvav'mg arms and toma- 

haiuks. Amid loud shouts of " Go-hah. 

Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah. Go-hah.") 

SACHEM {to Council). 
Hold silence, brothers, hearken to the words 
I say ; let them sink deep within thy hearts. 
The one Great Spirit made his children like 
He made the forest trees, some stalwart oaks, 
Some branching elms, some weeping willows, and 
Some but the scrub that grows about the others. 
The nations of the Iroquois, they are 
The stalwart oaks, we are the elms and willows. 
Palefaces are the scrub about us here. 
Now, for our growth, the thieving scrub must perish. 
My people, then let us to these knifemen 
Reply: we fight by side of Iroquois. 

{Wild enthusiasm, shouts of approval and con- 
fusion.) 



Curtain. 



ACT III 

SCENE II 

Scene: In the woods near to the Indian villages. 
Time: The gray that follows dark. Same day. Enter 
Sergeant. 

CALVERT. 

What say you, sergeant, hath the enemy 
Much force near by? 

SERGEANT. 

There are two villages ; 
One by the river's edge, and one a mile 
Therefrom, upon the higher land beyond. 

CALVERT. 

What of the force that can assemble there? 

SERGEANT. 

In lower village on the river bank 

I'd say no more than even hundred would 

Defend ; in upper, well, as many more. 

CALVERT. 

With such a force opposed against what we 
Now muster, should defiance and attack 
Be upon us, 'twould seem the welcome odds 
Are ours. A soldier of the Colony 
With powder dry and flint sharp-sparked is 
Equal to ten such heathen dogs as these. 

BRAINERD. 

My Captain, 'tis un-Christianlike to name 
Them dogs. They neither bark nor bite. 

CALVERT. 



I do not find agreement, for who says 
The painted devils do not bark had best 
See them in dance of torture, and who says 

71 



With that 



72 THE KING'S ENVOY 

His nay unto the biting, why, let him 
Then play the victim to such pranks, and he'll 
Soon learn how quick the jackals are upon 
The feast. 

SERGEANT. 
Aye, sir; I've fought them these ten years 
Or more, and 'tis the only way to treat 
With them. 

CALVERT {to Brainerd). 
Now there's a vet'ran's verdict for 
Thee, man. 

BRAINERD. 
Thy words may be as true as day, 
But with these eyes of mine I've seen some good 
'Mongst them. 

CALVERT. 
The good in them, comrade, is like 
The honesty in thieves ; 'tis only to 
Be seen when thou art looking. 

BRAINERD. 

By my faith, 
I'm of same mind as pious Eliot, 
Whose doctrine is to teach, not fight with them. 
They're willing converts to the faith, 'tis true, 
As some have shown and Eliot hath proved. 

CALVERT. 

Aye, Brainerd, thou art of a kind who cram 

The head with theories while the belly's put 

To no denial for its food, but let 

Them prove but theories by experience 

Which brings some anxious hunger, then will such 

A practise change from preaching. 

BRAINERD. 

You speak, man, 
As though I were a suckling — as if feel 
Of sword held kin to touch of toy. 

CALVERT. 

Not so: 
Thcu art now giving air to grievance born 
Of thine own doubt. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 73 

BRAINERD {angrily). 

Of what? Away with such 
Reflections! 

CALVERT. 

Doubt of theories, man, naught else. 
Flint spark in powder shows poor speed vmto 
Thy change from holiness to quarreling. 

BRAINERD. 
I take both joke and banter from a friend, 
But he must learn the limit of a tongue 
Lest it o'erride a personal topic long. 
Resentment it is fired thus, till man 
He's tempest-tossed. 

CALVERT. 

Rebuke deserved I take. 
And some amends I make with my regrets. 

BRAINERD. 

Well said, of honest frankness that, my hand. 

CALVERT. 

And mine. {They grasp outstretched hands, wring them 

heartily.) 
I'm strongly set on subject of 
The reds. Their many cruelties are deeds 
That start the flesh a-creep. 

BRAINERD. 

Yet on the page 
Of crime they have not writ alone. 

CALVERT. 

For crime no man is all responsible 
Since self and others, time and place, 
And action, too, are parents of intent. 
One is enough to make the deed 
But which one does 'tis well concealed. 

BRAINERD. 

Aye, and 
With blanket that no sweat of justice may 
E'en lend its moisture to. 



'Tis true, 



74 THE KING'S ENVOY 

CALVERT. 

Why art thou for 
The Indian so strong? 'Tis strangeness that 
Some action's bred. Was't long ago? 

BRAINERD. 

Aye, back 
In forty-four, when murder done by hands 
That should been stayed, a blot did place on this 
Our settlement's fair name. You know of it? 

CALVERT. 

'Tis as may be I know or know it not, 
Since man forgets and needs reminder now 
And then. 

BRAINERD. 
I speak of Miontomino, 
A man somewhat more worthy than those of 
A usual mould. By act deep written, red, 
In blood he died, and raised a spirit at 
The time to tell our perfidy to men. 

CALVERT. 

I do recall yet look upon the deed 
With eye some different from eye of yours. 
In foray 'gainst the enemy I once 
Made captive of a chief — his tribe it was 
The fierce and warlike Abenaki, whose 
Exploits our fathers they were wont to tell 
Of winter evenings, till each shadow grew 
An Indian. 

BRAINERD. 
And what disposition 
Was made of him to warrant this recall ? 

CALVERT. 

Hast seen the rain as't fell upon the stones. 
Great drops rebounding but to splash again ? 
Such were his futile efforts to be free, 
While no more chance had he than rain released 
From heaven's clouds. Thus his attempt was like 
Those splashing drops that bound to fall again. 

BRAINERD. 

What then became of him? 



THE KING'S ENVOY 75 

CALVERT. 

He turned upon 
Himself to cheat a Christian payment of 
The deed. 

BRAINERD. 
In time to come, when history deals 
With us, look for a just rebuke, and scorn 
That comes from, robbers' deeds — such wanton deeds 
As you and I perform. 

CALVERT. 

Away, thou friend 
Of red men, judging us at fault. I say 
Away. 

BRAINERD. 
'Tis honester to own the truth. 
The Indian is our enemy 
Because we have not been his friend. 

CALVERT. 

Thou art 
Now wrong, for often but to further his 
Own buying hath I given him some of 
My copper pennies for his little beads 
Of wampum at the rate of eight white beads 
Or four blue beads for every coin. 

BRAINERD. 

Doth that 
Now speak for generosity? 

CALVERT. 

Aye, since 
I gave a value for the doubt of it. 

BRAINERD. 

Thou, Captain, knowest well this wampum buys 
Both furs and grain, and thine own values are 
Against its worth. I one coin pay for six 
Of w^hite and two of blue. 

CALVERT. 

Aye, but thou art 
Following an error which hatches out 
An Indian. 



76 THE KING'S ENVOY 

SERGEANT. 

Yet thou hast been much feared 
Knifeman among these savages. 

BRAINERD. 

I am 
A soldier of the King and Colony. 
Their battles they are mine, while justice of 
Their wars is for some other to decide. 

CALVERT. 
Well said, good Brainerd, worthy man art thou 
And honest soldier too. What have we here? 

{Enter soldier with DiCK Fellows in custody.) 

SOLDIER. 
I found this remnant of thy force prone to 
Retreat. 

CALVERT. 
What ho, and so thou didst attempt 
Desertion ; grievous crime, that handy limb 
And hempen cord makes scarce by example. 

DICK [ill quivering voice). 
Good Captain, I followed a butterfly. 

SOLDIER. 

He told me 'twas a singing bird whose voice 
He'd imitate, 

CALVERT. 
Excuse should go one way 
And not in all directions. Which is now 
True reason, or are both foul lies ? Speak out ! 

DICK. 

Speech is a-tremble in my throat. Give time 
To it — give time. My reasons they are true 
When not so garbled out of shape as those 
Delivered here to thee. The bird did court 
The butterfly. 

CALVERT. 
And would have made a match 
Of it? 

DICK {regaining confidence) . 
'Tis that I would have known for thee 
Had not this meddler come between. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 7t 

CALVERT. 

By faith, 
How little takes thee from a fight. 
DICK. 

Of truth, 
There's less comes from than goes to fights. Once I 
Saw spiders battle, both lost legs, but they 
Had more to get 'way with; {Looks at legs.) while these 

of mine. 
Should one be left behind, would set progress 
A bad example. 

CALVERT. 
Fighter thou art not. 
DICK. 
And yet I've seen some fighting sharp indeed. 

SERGEANT. 
Some knavery, not much bravery, would I say. 

CALVERT. 
Aye, bits of courage for the downy lip. 

DICK. 
Would hear me tell of it? 

CALVERT. 

Aye, loose thy tongue. 
DICK. 
I own a cock of speckled feather, and 
A red-brown rooster, husband unto hens 
A-plenty. Faith and truth, good sirs, content 
With one, I cannot make the fowl. I hath 
Oft tried to follow what is preached against 
Such bigamy. 

CALVERT. 
I fear it is a case 
For council — bad example harbors thus. 

DICK. 
I wish thou wouldst then summons him. 
CALVERT. 

I will, 
And hang him, too, for lusty meal. 
DICK. 

Yet, sir. 
It would be hard upon the widows. 



78 THE KING'S ENVOY 

BRAINERD. 

Talk 
Of this, ft smacks of frivolity, 

CALVERT. 

Talk 
Of fools is tonic for a seriousness 
Sometimes, Proceed now, fellow Dick. 

DICK. 

The cock 
And rooster, was I there? 

SERGEANT. 

Nay, but thou wouldst 
Have been had watchful eyes not watched for thee. 

DICK. 

The rooster and the cock once saw one grain 
Of corn, and while more were about, for I'm 
No stingy man, they both in haste did make 
For it: Which got the grain, I never knew. 
But 'twas a fight of great excitement with 
Much cost, for both the cock and rooster now 
Have lost in value some. 

CALVERT. 

I wager thou 
Wilt find a fight, ere sun it finds the day, 
That will bestir thy vitals with some fears 
If not with steel or poisoned dart. 

DICK. 

Thou didst 
Once say that fifty more stout fellows would 
To liking be. I'll go and fetch them, if 
Thy mind is now the same. Is it thy wish ? 

CALVERT. 

Thou art not even moth in courage, it 
Is not afraid to flit about the blaze. 
SERGEANT. 
I'll use him well in our advance with dawn's 
Approach. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 79 

BRAINERD. 

A fearful man sometimes is good 
For use when place is tight and hght is thick, 
Since fear it gives unusual power of 
Defense. 

DICK. 
I'll fight, I'll fight, unless, perchance, 
Now, Captain, thou hast better use for me? 
A messenger unto the settlements 
For lads thou didst here want. Shall I now go? 

CALVERT. 

We'll use what we have here and fight as best 
We know. Now, Brainard, take thou twenty men. 
With them advance as near the village as 
A safety from discovery will permit. 
And, Sergeant, with a dozen more, go thou 
And ambuscade the paths that run between 
The upper and the lower towns. Brave Dick, 
Come thou with me, and be thou wary of 
Desertion as the fear of hanging will 
Permit. I'll warrant that ere break of dawn 
There'll be red devils better known to hell, 
Perchance in heaven some eood men welcomed. 



Curtain. 



ACT III 

SCENE III 

Scene: In the forest beyond the Indian village. 

Time: Early afternoon next day. Mohawk seated 
tvearily on a fallen tree. Thankful standing at some 
distance. 

MOHAWK. 
White maid, draw near, here will I rest by tree, 
Its branches they will shield, its roots enfold. 
The fruit of Niyoh * it is ripe for me. 
Sweet strawberries they now come near my lips. 

THANKFUL. 

Art thou so weary when the day is bright 

And fresh, enriched by spring perfumes: the airs 

Are heavy laden with the whiffs of sweet 

New grass, and budding leaves by every wind 

Are told from south, from north, from east, from west. 

MOHAWK. 

The sun is goldened by its brightest gown. 
The earth is gladdened by each sparkling ray; 
I'm happy that 'tis so. Dear maid, I sleep 
Forever here. Onward alone you go. 

{Hands her totems from neck.) 
With thee my totems take — they show thy clan 
Of bear, of wolf that is here broidered on. 
To all you meet say : Mohawk Yongwe t of 
The great He-do-no-sonne, sister to 
The At-o-ta-ho who avenges wrongs 
And for all kindness ample payment makes. 
Say thou art going to Yon-nom-de-yoh.:j: 
And when thou hast in safety reached Quebec 
Look southward to this spot where I shall lie 
And think, white maid, of one who loved thee well. 
* God. t A woman. % Governor of Canada. 

80 



THE KING'S ENVOY 8i 

THANKFUL. 

What means the noble Mohawk brave, 
Thou friend and guide of many trails? 
Art thou so sore with combat then, 
So wearied by this long pursuit? 

MOHAWK. 

Mohawk maiden of palefaces, 
Mohawk hearken, death comes nigh ; 
See this day's a time of parting. 
Hear a Mohawk's dying cry. 

THANKFUL 
Nay, friend, stay words so sad. 
Art thou then wounded much ? 
Why didst thou not tell me 
Of this, thy grievous hurt? 

MOHAWK. 

The bear he minds no pain. 
He walks upright and brave 
While blood is warm in him ; 
And when it doth grow cold 
He then lies down to wait 
In patience till he hears 
The spirits' call afar. 

THANKFUL {sitting beside him). 
Thou art not here to die, 
Thy brave and noble soul 

It will yet sustain thee. {Quietly rouses him.) 
Awake now, warrior. {Makes greater effort.) 
Awake, and call to it. {He stirs and murmurs.) 
Aye, call thee, loudly call. 

MOHHAWK {raises himself slightly on elboiv) . 
Who calls? Who calls the bear? {Falls back.) 
Now pillow thee my head. {She takes his head in her lap.) 
I have long loved thee well. {He lies quietly.) 

THANKFUL. 

I w^ill now chafe thy hands. {Begins rubbijig his hands.) 
How damp and cold they are, 
Aye, and I will give thee 

A draught that brings new life ; ( Takes flask from bosom 
and places it to his lips.) 



82 THE KING'S ENVOY 

'Tis of some liquor old 
The priest he gave to me. 

MOHAWK 

{Raises h'wiself to a sitting posture). 
For minute now new life it comes. {Turns to her.) 
Thy lips so brightly red will they 

For once touch mine that pale so soon? {She kisses him.) 
A sweet repayment for my life. {Pause, she holds his 

hand. ) 
The warm fire-lights are far away 
With castles of my people there. {Raises arm. Points 

westward. ) 
A mist hath fallen on my eyes, 
My ears sweet sounds in distance hear, 
My wearied limbs grow cold and stiff, 
My hand hath lost its strength of grip, 
My arm will ne'er raise tomahawk, 
My heart hath but a gentle throb. 
My head is drowsy with death sleep. 
Another kiss from thy lips, maid. {She kisses him.) 
I am repaid like night by day. 
If such is life what then is death? {Short pause. Rises, 

sways, faces the east, she steadies him. In loud 

voice:) 
I come; I am a Mohawk bear. 
Both unafraid and undismayed ! 

{He falls at her feet, dead.) 

THANKFUL {kneels by his side). 
Alas, he, too, hath died, and thus 
True friends, one after one, depart, 
And sorrow leaves its sad imprint. 
For hearts ne'er heal that once are seared. 

( Gazes at dead Indian. ) 
No tears now spring unto mine eyes. 
Yet there's deep pain within my heart, 
A pain such scenes as this will bring 
To me where'er or how I be. 

{Lays hand on his brow.) 
A savage truly thou mayst been, 
But 'neath thy red-brown chest so deep. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 83 

A chivalrous man's heart did beat, 
A kind of heart few women know. 

(Rises. Wipes tears from her eyes.) 
Are these salt tears from sorrow's fount 
That deeper grief hath held in check? 
Do I now w^eep for that held dear, 
But held not dear as dear it was? 

{Gazes tearfully upon him.) 
Would that my cheeks had thy red tinge. 
My heart the grandeur of thy soul, 
That race of race we had been one, 
And this most sad hour ne'er had come. 

{Turns slowly away.) 
Now w'ill I seek to find green leaves 
And let them form thy native shroud. 
Thou of the forest were, and back 
Unto thine own thou hast now gone. 

{Goes into the forest.) 
{Enter soldiers of the Colony.) 

FIRST SOLDIER. 
It was forsooth a pretty fight. 
With scampers for the enemy, 
And much activity for us ; 
What say you, comrade, out w^ith it? 

SECOND SOLDIER. 
I say this war's a bloody thing. 
When fighting but to hang a witch. 

FIRST SOLDIER. 

Well, she's away, it's fools who count 
On catching witches napping long. 

SECOND SOLDIER. 

Aye, so say I, and so say more 
Who've been a-playing scalping here. 

FIRST SOLDIER. 
{Springs to cover, seeing body of dead Indian). 
Go ye to cover. Indians! 

SECOND SOLDIER {gets behind tree). 
Where, comrade? I see none about. 



84 THE KING'S ENVOY 

FIRST SOLDIER 

{stepping cautiously from cover). 
Here's one; but since he's safely dead 
We need not fear a harm from him. 
I think I'll wear the scalp of him, 
'Tis lock of fine adornment, mate. 

(Takes knife from belt and starts toward body. 

Enter Thankful, sees him approach, takes 

up the fallen Mohaivk's tomahaivk and stands 

over his body. 

THANKFUL. 

Now by my life, ye touch him not, 
Thou worse than savage in such arts ! 
Hath no one taught thee to respect 
That which once housed the soul of man? 

FIRST SOLDIER. 

Why, 'tis in truth the witch. 
Aye, now beware her charms. 

THANKFUL. 
My charms are innocent. 
Naught but fair face and form ; 
My heart it, too, is pure. 
Hence, men, I know not fear. 

{Enter Calvert and more soldiers.) 

CALVERT {surprised and startled). 
Why, here's the witch, much bloodshed's cause. 
Now seize her, soldiers, ere by spells 
She doth some evil cast, and thus 
Again escape for harmful deeds. 

THANKFUL {in meanacing attitude). 
Thy orders, Captain Calvert, stay. 
Ere blood it flows: enough's been shed. 
Thy soldiers would the Mohawk scalp 
Here lying dead in my defense; 
One honester than any here, 
And of much greater chivalry. 
Bid these, thy men, go gather leaves 
So I may gently cover him. 
Then with such heroes' tribute paid, 
I'll be thy pris'ner. Go in peace. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 85 

CALVERT. 

Go, some of thee, and bring her leaves. 
It is at least most easy way; 
And as for me, I feel sharp strain 
Of recent struggle and hard strife. 

{Soldiers bring leaves. Thankful covers the 
body of dead Mohawk.) 

THANKFUL. 

Now, Captain of the Colony, 

I am thy pris'ner, but no witch. {Surrenders.) 



Curtain. 



ACT IV 

SCENE I 

Scene: Same as Jet I. Scene 2. 

Time: Tivo weeks late?- in the afternoon. 

FIRST VILLAGER. 
I've heard it said. 

SECOND VILLAGER. 

Aj'c, thou hast heard it said, 

FIRST VILLAGER. 

Aye, I have heard it said before the sun. 

SECOND VILLAGER. 
Before the sun. Aye, so, before the sun. 

FIRST VILLAGER. 

Aye, I have heard it said hefore the sun 
Goes down a witch will hang. 

SECOND VILLAGER. 

A witch will hang. 

FIRST VILLAGER. 
Aye, hang in this here town 

SECOND VILLAGER. 

She'll hang. She'll hang. 

FIRST VILLAGER. 



Aye, hang. 



SECOND VILLAGER. 

And so 'twill be. 



FIRST VILLAGER. 

Aye, so 'twill be, 
And we'll all have much peace. 

SECOND VILLAGER. 

Much peace. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 87 

FIRST VILLAGER. 



Much peace, and prosper, too. 



Aye so, 



SECOND VILLAGER. 

'Tis God's own news. 
Nay, nay, gainsay me not ; 'tis God's own news. 
Aye, aye, a plenty, plenty more than thought. 

FIRST VILLAGER. 
I've heard it said that for this witch-riddance 
There'll be a holiday. 

SECOND VILLAGER. 
A holiday. 
Didst thou hear it so said? 

FIRST VILLAGER. 

Aye, aye, I did, 
I did and maybe two of them there'll be, 
I've heard it said. 

SECOND VILLAGER. 

Aye, thou didst hear it said. 
What ears thou hast for hearing things ; what ears. 

{Enter Brainerd.) 

BRAINERD. 

Aye, ears for all ungodly mischief. Out 
With ye, miscreants, now, all of ye, and take 
Along thy likings, idle ways do bring. 
And Math them joy in others mis'ry. Out 
Of this, I say, or to one side. Here comes 
The Governor and Council by this way. 

{Enter Governor and Council. Take their 
seats. All boiuing briefly in prayer.) 

CALVERT. 

Now hath your Excellency word for these 
The people here, or shall the pris'ners be 
Conducted to your presence straight away? 

GOVERNOR. 

I have no words. Hence, Captain, summons them. 

{Exit Calvert. Re-enter ivith Thankful in 
chains. Mason and Maggie under guard.) 



88 THE KING'S ENVOY 

GOVERNOR {to Mason and Maggie). 

Ye are both duly charged before me now 
With aiding and abetting witchcraft here. 
W^hat say you, Thomas Mason, to the charge? 

MASON. 

My lord, who 'gainst vile falseness makes a plea 

Doth do some honor to the mouth of lies, 

While he who scorns perjurers one and all 

Hath satisfaction though he hang for it. 

Mine honor cries an answer thus and so. 

Yet, were I here before thee charged alone 

No answer save silent disdain I'd make; 

But with me charged, here stands my worthy dame; 

With both, a maid, so innocent of wrong 

That tears would blind me were I not a man; 

Poor devil workers were we three at best. 

To find a presence 'mongst such enemies. 

I have heard it right wisely ofttim.es said 

That Satan keeps a watch upon his own. 

To me there is much mock'ry in thy show. 

As faces of old friends are masked in frowns. 

Their roaming glances see all else but me, 

Yet their round middles oft my victuals held ; 

In truth, and since I look upon them close. 
Their girths, forsooth, have lost an inch or two ; 

'Tis thus misfortune crowns without a realm 

Its jewels — all the gems of knowing men, 

Its scepter power over self alone. 

Since from its touch the best may rise again. 

For mine own plea take right good honesty 

That hath survived attack nigh two score years. 

And for my dame I interpose the same. 

Yet minus many of the years of mine. 

Now, Governor of this fair Colony, 

The honor of new lands it rests with thee, 

I pray it be not marred by violence 

Against the body of this tender maid. 

Whose childlike thoughts and acts have never sinned. 

To her thy free and ample pardon give. 

Although she hath done naught that warrants me 

In asking it, or pleading innocence. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 89 

GOVERNOR. 

Hast thou then spoken for thy dame as well ? 

MAGGIE. 

Aye, on this one occasion he doth speak 
For me, but I will let thee hear my voice 
Before thou art full through with me. 

CALVERT. 

Come now, 
Peace, woman, lest thy tongue o'erride respect. 
MAGGIE {turning to Calvert). 
How^ long thy face is stretched in solemn shape. 
Beware lest you lose all thy neck to it. 

GOVERNOR. 

Thou hast well shown to me and Council here 

Thou art a man of honest, high intent, 

And both old friend and neighbor, too, thou hast 

These many years proved me. Of late it hath 

Been here, in these wild settlements. Before 

'Twas in old Sussex 'cross the seas. From this 

And from thy purpose here disclosed, all good 

And worthy reasons in like tenor come 

Conclusions that thou art both innocent — 

Thy dame and thee — that ye are victims to 

A sorceress, whose arts, ungodly, in 

A league of deviltry hath been long turned 

In thy direction. Therefore take a free 

And ample pardon from His Majesty. 

But, for this maid, of whom you freely speak, 

I have no mercy to bestow on her. 

Hers are great crimes for punishment. They're 'gainst 

Both God a^nd King. And as example to 

All who'd pursue the devil's path like this 

She's on, I must condemn. 'Tis hard, but right. 

{Enter Malcolm.) 
MALCOLM ( interrupting). 
My lord, I crave some private speech with thee. 

GOVERNOR {angrily). 
How now, must I be interrupted ? Know 
You, sir, here sits a court, the highest in 
This land? 



90 THE KING'S ENVOY 

CALVERT. 

Ill-timed interruption, I'd 
Make it. 

MALCOLM. 
No less ill-timed than 'tis now 
Ill-taken, with no such dire consequence 
As follows if ignored. 

CALVERT. 
A right of speech 
Precedes the speech, and in this court such rule 
Applies. Hence, Master Stranger, court'ous act, 
Deportment, words that consort therewith are 
Expected. Their absence's contempt, which doth 
Entail some punishment. 

GOVERNOR. 

B}' virtue of 
What power do you speak? 

MALCOLM. 

By virtue of 
A grant beyond thy power to bestow. 
Consideration prompts a preface to 
A duty, with my words. 'Tis for this court's 
High honor, sir. 

GOVERNOR. 
We lack thy doubtful skill 
In covert meanings, with the time for their 
Uncovering, In shape of rights we know 
A single pattern, favor cuts alone 
To turn our hearing t'wards the speech that comes 
From lips of strangers in our midst. 

MALCOLM. 

Addressed 
As stranger, yet I am no stranger here. 
Event it follows happening too sharp 
For that, since trav'lers met with jest or by 
Discord may don or drop their stranger garb 
At will. And yet pastime's no prompter to 
My voice, nor inclination reason of 
My visit, for such words as I would say 
To thee have greater ring in public than 
In private ears, though best in quiet, sir. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 91 

GOVERNOR. 

When we have given duty its demands 
To render fair and honest judgment here, 
We'll hearken then to words thou hast to sa3^ 

MALCOLM. 

This is the most fit time for speaking, since 
A judgment stayed were better than remade. 

GOVERNOR. 

Away with silly lack of consequence, 
And test the temper of this court no more. 

MALCOLM. 
Cannot suggestion stay such stubbornness, 
Or must enforced speech be so employed ? 

CALVERT. 

Thy speech's now without authority. 

MALCOLM. 

Nay, 
For authority is import of words 
When said. Pray grant this timely court'sy me: 
It is a right I might assert I crave. 
Such as disclosure it will prove to thee. 

GOVERNOR. 

Thy authority, else we now proceed. 

MALCOLM. 

Your Excellency, think twice ere you answer, 

For much official and efficient justice 

Doth hang on varied limbs of authority; 

He higher climbs whose branch the top is nearer. 

GOVERNOR. 

Be silent at my bidding, else thy speech 
Be rudely shortened by rough hands that will, 
I warrant, cut it close. Now look to him. 
I'm wearied of his interruptions here. 

(Calvert goes toivard Malcolm^ who draws 
his siuord.) 

MALCOLM. 

Stand away, and put no hand upon me! 
Consideration hath outrun itself, 



92 THE KING'S ENVOY 

Since demand for hearing's met so rudely. 
Now, Gov'nor, hearken well to what I say. 

(Calvert approaches close. Malcolm makes 
pass. ) 
Begone with those you lead; I'm master here! 

CALVERT [shoutino; to soldiers). 
At him, my men, from sides and rear; at him! 

MALCOLM {szveeping szvord about him). 
Nay, save thy skins and vitals from my sword ; 
I wield a blade of many points and cuts, 
And in such midst 'twill carve unduly free. 
Hear, Gov'nor, or you'll rue thy hasty act. 

{Thrusts at soldiers vigorously.) 
Away, I'm not here now alone, ye dogs; 
All unprepared for vi'lence such as this. 
My ships ride anchor scarce a league away; 
If ye would stay thy noises for a pace 
The tramp of armed men's feet thine ears would greet. 

(Brief pause and silence.) 

CALVERT. 

If pirate, then thy horde's deserted thee. 

GOVERNOR. 

How lives a treason vile as this? Is it. 

Too, witchcraft's curse so close in midst of us? 

At him, bind him most strongly, hand and foot! 

MALCOLM (in loud tones). 
When blood's thy cry, I'll give it thee. Yet hear, 
And hold. I speak for Charles, thy gracious king. 
I am supreme in these, his colonies. 
With vested powers none may supersede. 
Sir Hector Malcolm here ye see endowed 
By royal patent grant: " The King's Envoy." 

GOVERNOR (risin'g). 
Back, Captain Calvert, with thy men ; back all 
Of ye. (To Envoy.) Why, sir, so tardy with thy voice 
Which doth proclaim thy high commission here? 
And since but word of mouth, how may we judge 
Of its real worth as truth or lie? 



THE KING'S ENVOY 93 

MALCOLM. 

{taking commission from doublet). 
By this: 
A written instrument. 'Tis signed and sealed 
By Charles the King of England, lord of these 
New lands — his colonies — a royal hand 
Did write name here {points to signature) and here his 
Premier. {Points to other signature.) 

GOVERNOR. 
By royal will in thee we now retire, 
As subjects wait the pleasure of a king 
In person, else by proxy just proclaimed. 
And must apology accompany 
Regret we heard thee not, and thou silent 
Of dignity remained. Distinction such 
As you possess should find no court wherein 
Deception reigns. The public trial holds. 

MALCOLM. 

Nay, since my hand was forced by violence, 

My taste finds flavor most in public ears. 

For words I'd hear that judgment might be formed. 

Proceed, I'll here attend, and should appeal 

Be made against some ruling that's unfair 

I'll then decide such question, for the King 

MASON. 

Now may compassion know itself again. 
And check the vi'lence of this vi'lent state. 

CALVERT. 

In order keep thy tongue. 

MASON. 

'Tis task that speaks 
Great wisdom, known only to those born dumb. 

GOVERNOR. 

Now let the pris'ner-witch before me stand. 
And sentence for her grievous crimes receive. 

(Thankful stands. Addresses her.) 
By this high court, in trial fair, upon 
Sworn proof thou hast been found as guilty, witch, 
And here, in name of our most gracious King, 



94 THE KING'S ENVOY 

I thee condemn to burning at the stake ; 
A punishment that fits such mighty sin. 
Thy erring soul I now commend to God 
In hope that He may lead thee to confess 
And crave forgiveness ere it be too late. 

{To Captain Calvert.) 
I charge thee with this execution, sir, 
And when the sun's an hour set, report 
This devil's consort dead to human form. 
Let not fair maiden's shape deter thee ; keep 
In mind disguises Satan doth affect. 

CALVERT. 

I'm soldier, not an executioner, sir; 
As such, selection of another's asked. 

GOVERNOR. 
How now, doth lack the nerve for such a deed? 

CALVERT. 

My nerve can see a man to two parts carved, 
His head cut from a wriggling, bloody neck. 
But when it comes to such pursuits as this, 
Some other may my office freely take, 
For I'll have none of it to my account. 
These words are final, and in all respect. 

MASON. 
Comrade, thou hast the spirit of man's speech, 
Thy heart a lasting honor does to thee. 

CALVERT. 

Silence; thy speech's confined unto thy plea. 

GOVERNOR. 

Am I not Gov'nor here by King's command. 
Or are my orders of a light regard ? 

CALVERT. 

I was the Captain of this Colony, 
But now return my commission to thee; 
And since no order stands thus in the way, 
Some newer Captain will thy bidding do. 

GOVERNOR. 
Remand the pris'ner who hath been condemned, 
Release the others since no case is proved. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 95 

Thou, Captain, art from duty here relieved ; 
Lieutenant Brainerd, he commands instead. 

MALCOLM. 

'Tis time the corpse of Justice rose to flay 

Such travesty upon a name misused. 

The calling right a right and sin a sin 

Is naming act by life's impost. But when 

A cruel wrong is garbed in Virtue's cloak, 

A-wearing hood that hides a lying face, 

Then it behooves us to awake and rouse 

Fair, honest Truth. Thus, time for speech is here. 

Defense is kin unto all existence, 

In protest or approval — it is right 

That bars infringement — claims no denial. 

Hence, Governor and Council, heed my words: 

I've been amongst ye now the past fortnight ; 

I came in clamor of thy witches' hunt. 

'Twas in that hour of excitement great 

I saw and spoke the maid ye sought so much. 

And from her lips I learned her innocence. 

I witnessed then the fury of thy quest, 

And slaughter saw of those without offense. 

As well the loss of many men unto 

The settlements. But better proofs of right 

Misnamed I find this day, in acts and deeds 

Recent happened are all of them, and they 

Shape honest judgment now followed for thee 

And which by royal decree I proclaim. 

The maid here charged a witch ye persecute; 

As observation it hath easily proved 

To all save those who from false zeal are blind, 

So, by will of his Majesty, she's free. 



Curtain. 



ACT IV 

SCENE II 

Scene: The shore of the Colony near to the settlements. 

The ships of " The King's Envoy " riding at anchor 

in the offing. 
Time: Tate twilight, a iveek later. 

MASON. 

So we're now home again, my lass. 

MAGGIE. 

Aye, so ; 
And home is good to find when long without. 

MASON. 
Now, since the story it hath all been told, 
The wrong that might have been should breed some 

thought 
Where act had progeny. I warrant thee 
The Gov'nor thinks some of the ways he went, 
And Calvert, too, now Captain here again. 
He is contrite as rough old soldier well 
Can be when e'er sweet Mistress Thankful he 
Doth see. Aye, 'twas a lesson 'gainst much haste. 

MAGGIE. 

And who'd a-thought Sir Hector such a man 
Of consequence. 

MASON. 
It is one point of life 
We know not all, and knowing what we do 
We know how ill to judge a man before 
He by some act doth judge himself for us. 

MAGGIE. 
Here now he lingers when he said he would 
Away. 



THE KING'S ENVOY 97 

MASON. 

A woman is the root of much 
Delay in nations and in men ; a word, 
A sigh, or bright well-kindled eye will keep 
Where armies they would fail to hold. 

MAGGIE. 

And thus 
You think he stays to dawdle here, content 
That she he loves be near? 

MASON. 

Aye, lass, and since 
A love w^ell told will bring a tingle to 
The veins, such as good wine when old and blood 
Grows sluggish with a lack of it, here in 
The evening, romance-laden hour, tell me 
The maiden's love. 

MAGGIE. 
Thus marriage paints the love 
Of others on its own canvas. 

MASON. 

Nay, doth 
But help the bloom by telling of the bud. 

MAGGIE. 

I might unravel thee her slender-wound 

Thought skein, and draw some pictures you well know. 

But do recall with little frequency, 

By thy loss of a youthful modesty. 

Hear well, for 'tis a vestal virgin's feast. 

Albeit thy reign of sense hath mixed in 

Nonsense these many years gone by. She loves, 

But loving is slow to forgive a tale 

Unknowing told to him from whom she would 

Conceal. A woman's love confessed is sweet 

To her and him when told with wooing words. 

And only sweet to him when otherwise. 

MASON. 
Here strolls the valiant knight, Sir Hector, wrapper 
Well in his sleep of love, a King's business 
It waits on him, or on her now through him. 
Come, we'll away, 'tis well to let him dream. 



98 THE KING'S ENVOY 

The sun it dies with lover's pangs, the moon 
It rises with soft whispers in its sighs. 

MALCOLM. 

The spirit of endeavor bids man try. 

But what's endeavor's guide, who knows when right, 

Who knows when wrong, till tried ? So currents of 

A life are spent before the holder finds 

Them gone, and thus the wrecks a grave engulfs, 

The sighs that linger on, yet what of it. 

The new each day are born : the old passed on 

With question eternal, where hath they gone? 

(Seats himself on grass, looking toward settle- 
ments.) 
When first disclosure did disclose the priest. 
The red beneath each cheek it leaped and leaped. 
And since fair modesty made promise for 
The lass so sweetly shy, I could but look 
Away and sigh, with thought of joy of him 
Whose hand and voice such innocence might teach. 

(Short pause.) 
Ah, 'twould be well I lost all thoughts here born, 
Yet who hath lived to dig a grave for thought; 
It is a ghost who flits by day and night. 
And never by thy leave doth ask permit. 
Methinks it is a crier for our sins 
That conscience finds most active duties for. 
And yet from 'mongst the hosts of life's regrets 
It doles some sweetness out, good pay for all. 

(Rises and looks about him.) 
I wonder — men all do — I wonder if 
She will come here and meet with nie alone, 
My penitence to hear? (Touches heart.) I feel a throb 
That tells a bounding heart. One bound for hope. 
Ten bounds for doubt. (Looks westward.) How fast 

the sun it falls. 
She will not answer my apppeal by dark, 
And in the morning I w^ill then away, 
Henceforth a stranger to all wiles of love. 

(Enter Thankful softly. She stands luatching 
him.) 



THE KING'S ENVOY 99 

THANKFUL. 

Here, Master " King's Envoj'," obedient 
To royal will, am I. You sent for me, 
And as I came along I scanned all those 
I met in search of new disguise. 

MALCOLM {boiving loiv.) 
I have 
Been waiting here a slave unto my doubts. 

THANKFUL. 

But since thy will is here supreme, why doubt? 
I come, and as thy message did inveigh: 
I come alone. 

MALCOLM. 
Fve sought for thee since noon. 
Till now bad luck was mine. 

THANKFUL. 

And since I find 
Thee deep in reverie, I take it that 
Bad luck hath not yet walked away. 

MALCOLM. 

Not walked, 
'Tis true, for winged it flew when j^ou, fair maid. 
Did deign to come to me. 

THANKFUL. 

What nature was 
Thy urgent quest? It must have been of some 
Import, demanding hours between high noon 
And dark. If 'tis desire of speech with me, 
Be brief. 

MALCOLM. 

Sweet Mistress Thankful, 'twas farewell ; 
I fear I will not see thee more, since on 
The morrow's early tide my ships they weigh 
Their anchors and hoist sails. 

THANKFUL. 

Farewell, then, most 
Kind sir, I'm thankful that you came to us. 



loo THE KING'S ENVOY 

MALCOLM. 

Is thankfulness of such moment 
As to outweigh my deep offense? 
Iri truth, deception was a play 
I with great reluctance did make. 

THANKFUL. 

Of me ask no forgiveness, sir. 

Thy service was in truth so great. {Offers hand.) 

And now a safe return to thee ; 

Farewell again, and last good-night. 

MALCOLM. 
Some queries answer me, and source from which 
Replies are drawn, sweet maiden, let it be 
As true, as blue a lavish nature gave 
Unto thine eyes. 

THANKFUL. 
The promise made before 
The question's asked, is no more promise than 
The sea makes when it leaves the sands. 

MALCOLM. 

I'll crave 
A fair consideration from thee, then. 
Art thou remaining here ? 

THANKFUL. 

I know not, sir. 
AiALCOLM. 
Would to Virginia go? 

THANKFUL. 

I know not, sir. 

MALCOM. 
Or to the far-off Canadas, where it 
Is cold, and speech is foreign unto thee? 

THANKFUL. 

I know not, sir. 

MALCOLM. 

Be not displeased with 
My speech of inquiry. 'Tis cover to 
A book of interest that chill in thy 
Late manner hath kept shut. 



THE KING'S ENVOY loi 

THANKFUL. 

'Tis indiscreet 
To open books sometimes, as to turn gaze 
Upon a heart through subterfuge, and by 
Such hasty glance there is as little's learned ; 
For ne'er was story told by one sentence, 
Or single paragraph. 

MALCOLM. 

A multitude 
Of meaning hath thy speech. 

THANKFUL. 

'Tis quality 
Of speech that's good^ — a method whereby fools 
Are taught to think. 

MALCOLM. 

Is it now so employed ? 

THANKFUL. 
It might be to advantage. 

MALCOLM. 

Speech with thee 
As suitor or as fool, if thy sweet will 
But frame reply, is lasting joy for all 
Reflection, and a mem'ry that would make 
A heart that's old as young as once it was. 

THANKFUL. 

Thou art a prince of repartee. 
And knight of pretty speeches, sir. 

MALCOLM. 

Nay, when I am with thee my tongue 

It proves no weapon of defense, 

Nor can it find a fancy for 

The smaller talk's delight. In truth, 

It is a traitor unto me. 

And slave to thee. 

THANKFUL. 
I must away. 
The night is settling fast. The dews 
Of Spring are heavy hereabouts. 
Fair voyage, and a happy one. 



102 THE KING'S ENVOY 

MALCOLM. 

Thus happiness comes only true in dreams. 

THANKFUL. 

I will then wait till you recount me one. 

MALCOLM. 

In dreams that would woo sleep forevermore, 

I've dreamed, dear maid, these many nights of thee; 

But we always were friendlier then than now, 

Which made the dream more welcome than the real ; 

Thy head then reached my shoulder, where it does. 

And sweetly nestled 'gainst my doublet {draws her head 

to his shoulder) — so. 
Thy fair white arm, not listless as 'tis now. 
Then gently rested on my shoulder (raises her right arm 

to his left shoulder) — so. 
Thy bright blue eyes were not then downward cast. 
But looked up bravely into mine; (she looks up) — just 

so, 
Thy sweet, low voice was not so silent then 

THANKFUL. 

Nay, it did whisper what you know. 

MALCOLM. 

Aye, so. (Kisses her.) 



Curtain. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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